In the memory, he loves the rain so much, likes the elegance and freedom of the rain. He loves the rain and is often fascinated by it, just like me sitting in front of the window, letting the rain drift my thoughts. Why does it always rain? I remember that it also rained on the day he moved away. Such soft rain blurred our sight under the sky. I don’t remember who first stopped his tearful eyes. Just like that, in One rainy day, he left me.
