Rain

I miss the days when rain didn't use to bother me. I have fond childhood memories of running through thick streams of rain with not a care in the world. I can remember jumping in puddles and loving every splash and ripple. I can remember hunting for salamanders and turtles in the muck and grime that filled the small creak near my house after a solid rain. I can remember the joy I received from being covered in mud and water when I returned home to my angry mother. I can remember how much more epic the battles between my Cobra Commander and Duke GI-Joes were in the rain. I can remember the funny noises my wet socks made as they squished between my toes in my rain boots. Now I feel the need to cover myself up completely when rain comes. I cloak myself in a hood or umbrella to shelter myself from the wetness I used to embrace with open arms. I hide from what once used to be a source of my joy. Smiles emitted from rains long ago now turn into frowns as the cold water covers my clothes and hair on the way to class. When and why did rain become a source of my unhappiness?