when the rains finally came, the last thing i wanted was to get wet

my culture shock arrived like the monsoon. unannounced, silent. as relentless as the ocean. and violent, like a rip current.
i can't remember when she first made landfall.
my honeymoon eyes would have glossed over her storm clouds and the birds circling ominously against them. i would have ignored the red flags flapping like thunder in the wind.
had i been so perceptive.
had i been so perceptive, i still might have laughed her away.
i would have swam into the deep end, reckless, and let the waves have their way with me. i would have demanded her turbulence. and those first drops would have felt so nice on my skin, foreign and alien as they were. i would have danced in her rain - my present perfect, my past as harmless as a museum on a Monday and my future boundless.
but she never arrived with so much drama.
she crept up as quiet as the tide, as innocent as the mist. and it already feels like it's been raining forever.
and forever is starting to feel like forever.
and as much as I would love to accept her tears and sway lazily in that perfect storm, my soul has gone rigid. my mind is swimming and my heart is sinking.
so i will sit and watch her from this window only.
i will sit and i will wait and i will study her from a safe distance. i will learn her habits and she will learn mine. and only when we have come to terms with each other will we learn to forgive and forget.
and accept.