You Can Stand Under My Umbrella

‘An umbrella can’t stop the rain, but it can make you stand in the rain. Find someone who can carry an umbrella for you on a rainy day.’ I have heard this a lot.

I never gave it much thought until on my way home from college on an extremely painful rainy day when a man very gently offered me to stand under his umbrella. He had a spark in him. The kind of spark that makes people feel comfortable around him.

The college shirt was soaked in rain, and you could almost see the underlining of the sports bra that I had worn that day. When everyone around me seemed to judge the way I looked at the moment, he felt like the only one who didn’t care the least bit about my appearance. Or maybe this wasn’t right. I might have just created a false truth. I might have fabricated the memory into something I would have loved to believe. Nevertheless, he was truly very sweet. And though I say I don’t believe in love at first sight, I wanted to ask him to carry an umbrella for me on all my rainy days then.

I was in my twelfth grade that year. My arms were very subtly folded around my chest (not that I was aware of the exposed underline of my bra; it was more of a reflex. I was cold. The rain was wild that day), and he had offered to stand under his umbrella. He said it calmly. Maybe he said it without giving it any thought. To him, I may have been just another human being that he encountered on his way, but for me, he became the one, my ultimate crush.

Whenever I dream of love, those are never wet dreams that I have. Rather, me in a coffee shop with the one I love. Or me in his leather jacket because it is cold. Or me riding on the back of his bicycle to return home. Strangely enough, most of the time when I dreamt of love, it always had something to do with college and cold weather, where it was almost or absolutely raining, like that rainy day I met this dreamy man who shared his umbrella with me.

Not even exaggerating, he asked me to stand under his umbrella- those were his exact words. I went beside him, but it resulted in both of us being only half covered. The courtesy goes to his broad frame. He thereby asked me to stand in front of him. That did the trick.

I was no longer cold. The raindrops were no longer falling on my head. I was quite happy then. But I can’t help the disappointment that brews in the pit of my stomach every time I think about our placement that day. Before he had offered me to stand under his umbrella, I was very focused on the shivering self that I never glanced up to look at him, and when he offered, he asked me to stand in front of him, which prevented me from seeing his face completely.

And even though I blame the earth I was standing on or the rain that was falling, I know the real reason I missed his face was my overly intense giddiness that made my fingers tap against each other, but had my eyes completely rooted to the ground.

Once the bus arrived, I boarded it first. I did this in a hurry. The line was quite long, and the herd of people trying to rush inside was dangerous. No one wanted to wait for another bus to come in such weather. I had to secure a seat for myself. Once I did find a place, I began dancing my eyes in search of him, but then I had never seen his face. I didn’t give much thought to what he was wearing either.

Maybe slumped in one of the seats of the bus, his broad frame no longer looked so broad. It looked like everybody else’s. It looked the same.

Almost everyone on the bus carried an umbrella. How do I know which one was his? I couldn’t.

Did he take the bus? Maybe

Did he not take the bus? Maybe

Who knows.

But still, he is my one constant crush. It has been almost three years since the incident, and not a single guy has been able to out-throw him. Even when I dreamt of love, all my lovers were a replica of him, and maybe that is a reason why, as I woke up, they never had any face.

All I know is that they made me feel the exact thing that I had felt the entire time that I had stood under his umbrella. I just remember that feeling to have been one of the best out of everything that I ever felt in my lifetime to date, but as I wake up and try to bring those feelings back, I can’t get them to come forth. They don’t come with the same intensity, even if they do.

It’s like the one time you somehow cook the most delicious-tasting chicken ever, and then no matter how many times you repeat the same recipe after that, you are never able to make it taste the same.

Though I know in the heart of my heart that the feeling that I experienced that day was so beautiful, I just don’t know exactly how I felt.

Recently all of the sudden, I went on to play that day when a chill had spread my spine but my cheeks had been so warm despite the drenching rain and biting cold; when I had unknowingly gasped for breath, when it was as if I and that faceless beauty were the main characters and no one else mattered, as if all I could hear was a song sung sweetly, deep in my ears. Before it had disappeared completely, to never come back into my life again.

On a rainy day, a dreamy man, my shivering self, and his umbrella.

And I never saw that guy ever again. I couldn’t recognize him either, even if I had encountered him somewhere. Because now I realize how I idealized him in my mind the day he shared his umbrella with me to the point where even if I see him again, I will not be able to recognize him.