Have you seen the world through a droplet of water? It might sound peculiar, but I have a hunch it could change your perspective. Lately, you've been carrying the weight of countless burdens, and I've tried to console you, offering my love repeatedly. Yet, it seems like my words merely pass through your empty soul.
You've been feeling drained, experiencing a whirlwind of emotions one day, only to be left feeling empty and desolate the next. I'm torn between speaking up, fearing it might shatter your fragile emotions, and staying silent, for I don't want you to endure loneliness.
I want to scream to you and with you, I want to slap you and kiss you. I've been drowning too, but I'm so afraid to be pulled down because I know there's no one who can save you. We were exhausted all summer, but now the rain has arrived.
One afternoon after our long fight, I noticed the windowpanes adorned with tiny droplets, racing down one by one. I leaned toward you and posed an unusual question: "Have you ever seen the world through a droplet of water?" Your expression revealed surprise at my unconventional query, but your eyes conveyed a silent request for an explanation.
I continued, " I want to see the world into a tiny water droplet. It's clear, beautiful, and pure—no filters. And when the water becomes too heavy to bear, all you can do is slide down to a windowpane, leaving your burdens behind, and eventually, gracefully fall to the ground."