Rhetorical

It rained last night. 

Not enough to make any significance to the soil, 

but I thought to myself "Let it rain a little longer” 

Maybe I could catch a trip over to the dreaming.

It didn't keep raining.

I felt betrayed by the rain, all that soothing gone.

I wonder if that's the way I see you. 

An extension of my comfort and convenience.

It begs the question, 

do we love for the sake of passion?

or are we floating in an endless sea of a need to be seen?

Do we treat this life like a constant ride for our next high? 

I say we because saying I feel like it's a me problem. 

Makes it less a question and more a confirmed bias

So I ask "we". 

Do I (we) see the world as an extension of myself?

constantly revolving for my convenience?

Or do I truly just love the sound of the rain when it pours?