Why I should keep walking (Metaphor)

You know it's coming. There's a smell in the air and an intense anticipation in the sky. The wind has waited while dirty cotton clouds blanket the earth, changing the look of everything. With the harsh yellow sun now reduced to a memory, you see the world now only in storm colors.

Everything is cold and steely. The clouds have put an edge on everything, bringing out the other colors that a sunny, hazy day can not. From the tint of the grass I know a few drops of rain have fallen already. I look at the trees around me, in a shade of green reserved mostly for the emerald isle. This is the green of growth, of life, of pain, of storms. Yes, more is still to come. Probably much more. 

Oh the memories! The longer I linger in daytime dusk, the more I get soaked in the colors around, swallowing my tears. Am I that weak? I refuse to think so.

I hoist my umbrella, the rain starts falling and collects on my umbrella, gathering in beads, then skating across the umbrella in a gleeful, meandering sort of way. The memories keep coming, but I want to keep walking, it does not make me stop wanting to walk. I head towards my destination to avoid the rain and avoid the memories of those wet summer days. I am under the umbrella, protected. I keep telling myself... But then why is it so cold, why is the chill attacking me?

Back in that summer it might have been the end of a day at the beach or a day in the woods. We'd run, laughing, dancing in the woods where our love found its way. But those days were past..The lightning, fighting its way across the sky was the soft kiss,a kiss to remember, that the rain would be heavy, would not end soon. The invisible thunder was the laughter, alluding me...

I cast a last glance to my stormy sky...I'm waiting for a rainbow to smile back at me, and the clouds part away so the sun can shine in... It won't be that bad afterall...