June gloom came on May 31.
A week and a day later the grey skies have grown darker and heavier. On my head.
I walk in high wooden heels on streets covered in flower petal confetti; even the trees feel the burden of the skies.
At the French cafe the waiter who knows me gives me foamed milk for my coffee just to be nice, and I take a moment to register that I'm a regular here now. I get cranky if my usual table is taken, but today there is no reason to worry- no one wants to sit outdoors when grey skies are pressing down on you. But me.
I'm not letting gloom win.

Some days, like this day, the music in my earphones sound especially like theme songs to my life. I lift the coffee cup to my lips and feel like I'm in a movie. The cars driving by are background extras and the thoughts in my head are scripted perfectly.
A guy sits down at the table in front of me, living his life without theme songs in his ears. I feel sad for him because right now my movie is at the point where the music rises into a powerful crescendo symbolizing strength, willpower and mightiness. Nothing can crush me.

The waiter comes back to ask if I want more coffee and I remove one of my earbuds to let the outside world in. There is no movie, there is June gloom and car horns and a raindrop falling into my cup. But yes, I want more coffee and isn't it time for lunch soon and I'll walk on my high wooden heels to meet up with you and when we kiss we will be the same height and you will get some of my lipstick on your lips and we'll have our lunch outdoors because weather doesn't rule. We do.