Raining

We're always learning. Ooops, cliché alert!

Well, what I've learnt this week is that I need to learn (wow, isn't that repetitive?!) how not to give a crap.

Why?

Raindrops are falling on my head/ But that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turning red/ crying is not for me/ Cause/ I'm never gonna stop the rain by complaining/ Because I'm free/ Nothing's worrying me.
(Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head, B. J. Thomas)

Right on the money.

The rain always, always falls -  how we face it depends entirely on us.
(Credits to M. H., for a great metaphor.)

Somedays we're just not in the mood - we're all dressed up, our hair nicely done, and we don't wanna get wet. We do, and then we get pissed.

Somedays we're in the right mood for that - we see the first raindrops battering agaisnt the windowpane, and we rush out the door, parched for some rain. Gettting wet is all we wanna do then (no pun intended, please).

Somedays we're neither here nor there - and then we think "screw this, I'm already wet, I'm gonna fuck" (pun intended). If life gives you a lemon... you know how the chorus goes. Getting wet, whether we like it or not, that's life. However, we seek shelter from it nonetheless. And that's what relationships are: a shelter from the rain, when it's pouring down.
But shelters are built by human hands, are they not? Just like everything that is human, they're weak. They, too, leak; and we get wet.
At such a time we have two options ahead of us: we can either get pissed all over again, and not forgive our shelter for having failed us so - or we can remind ourselves that, had we built it, it might've been just as weak, and allow others to make mistakes as well. And not give a crap about being wet.
Not giving a crap makes us much, much lighter. Being soaked - to your very bones - and not giving a tiny little rat's ass... talk about freeing.