Darling, there’s one thing I’d like you to know, and I am going to say this once. Only once. Why? Simply because I don’t believe in repetitions. Repetitions are dull, boring, and unnecessary. Thus, I am going to say this once. Yes, only once.

My dear, I have been so used to be an umbrella.

You want an umbrella only when it’s raining hard or when it’s blazing hot. When the weather is perfect, you’ll only see an umbrella as a burden; something that will only add extra weights to your backpack or a pointless hassle since you have to make sure that you hadn’t left it on a park-bench somewhere. It may seem that the slightly unfair fact about this situation is such that you can choose whether you’d like to carry an umbrella around or not; but the umbrella can’t choose to be anything else but itself: an umbrella, that will shelter you when you need it.

However, sometimes people missed this tiny bit of something so essential: the umbrella can shelter you only if you have one ready near you, or if you have stored one inside your bag this whole time.

My love, I have been an umbrella all my life, and I have learned a lot about being one. I have learned not to hate myself (like I used to) for being an umbrella, but to embrace this role as something sacred. Something precious. I am now carrying this role with serenity, knowing that being an umbrella is not something hopeless. The truth is that I’m here for a cause. I am supposed to be here, at this particular phase of my life, for you. And everything will take care of itself when the time comes.

However, my darling, I can’t be ready to shelter you all the time if you don’t carry me with you all the time. One day, when it rains so darn hard and you’re about to take me out from your bag, you’ll remember that you have left me on a bench at a train station somewhere when the weather was perfect. Will you regret your carelessness by then? Maybe. Maybe not. Came to think about it, you can always get yourself a new umbrella. But… hey, the rain is pouring now, my dear! It’s pouring even harder and harder, and by the time you get a new umbrella you’re already soaking wet.

Life is fair in many ways, dear, even for an umbrella that cannot choose to be anything but itself: an umbrella. At times, things may seem difficult to comprehend, but I just want you to know all this, my love, and I will only say this once. Because I don’t believe in repetitions. Repetitions are dull, boring, and unnecessary.

Don’t you think?