Petrichor and Placidity

I feel that life is at its truest when it is nighttime and there's a strong downpour crashing outside. Rain brings not only the deepest, darkest, and saddest thoughts to the surface, but also a calming acceptance of everything happening to oneself. It's strange because it seems to make the loneliness I experience so much more significant, yet it helps to make me not feel so lonely simultaneously. Emotions become more potent, longing becomes more bruising. It brings a sense of completion while showing exactly what's missing. It's an odd paradox. Nature has no intentions other than to just be. If only being human was as simple. As people, we can't just be, no matter how much we say we can or how badly we try to; there is just so much more to it. But when I look at the dark gray clouds painted over the black sky, feel the moisture floating through the air, and listen to droplets of water shatter against land, it provides a certain understanding. A comprehension that causes me to realize that I am certainly lost, but maybe that isn't so bad. Stuck in a cycle: a constant state of uncertainty encountering inquisitive nature. So much has been learned and so much to be learned; every joy and pain felt; the lows of depression and the highs of vitality, all experienced in equal measure. As self-reflective rain can cause me to be—in the worst and best of ways—it is an absolute necessity. It is an honest peace.