"Every parting is a form of death, as every reunion is a type of heaven", Tryon Edwards stated. I'm beginning to write this critique having this particular quote in mind, even if I don't admire it for its spiritual sense ( knowing that the man was a theologian ), but only for the emotional one. When we find that special someone who manages to define us eventually, it is hard beyond words to let them go, even if it is against our will and for a short period of time. We feel vulnerable, we feel weak like every humble human being, we go back to the loneliness echoed by the beating of solely our hearts. We yearn for the perfect melody made by every breath of our lover, we dream of the security it brings along, we want them back, and we want it soon. It's very natural to be like this, when your feelings are so sincere, born from the depths of our soul, too far for us to ever comprehend.

Yes, this deviation touched me. I wouldn't critique it if it wasn't a special one. And I can relate to the strong message it sends. We are strange creatures, you know? We have so many weaknesses, and yet I think this is the most beautiful one: to feel the physical need to have someone beside you, to touch them, or even share a glance with them. That's all it takes to put our pieces back together, to feel strong again, to conquer the world.

We see raindrops on various photographs taken by different deviants. But what we rarely find is the strong connection between a photo like this and its message. A defined purpose, a sentence which can bring your spirits up and then take you down at the same time, because it bears so many meanings. That's what makes a photograph original: the thrill and the curiosity it gives you in order to analyze it further, to see every angle, to try and be a keen observer.

It's a well thought artwork for sure. The lights blurred by the raindrops are the image of hope, of a familiar territory that will soon receive us once again. Love, passion, complexity, peace, they are all there, beyond the apparent immensity of water found in front of us. Those are our fallen tears, little pieces of our story, pieces of us. We are the only ones who can appreciate them and keep them close to our souls, we, as the lovers that tolerate the distance and give meaning to the suffering, who constantly repeat to ourselves just a little bit longer. We are determined, strong, intense and undefeated, and most of all we know that nothing can be more powerful than true love.

The impact is obvious. A million words cross our minds while we're standing here, in front of a glass, waiting for the rain to pass and for the window to shatter, with arms wide open for the return of our lover.

I often want "to take the hands of time and cuff them" as a singer said. Maybe if enough lovers try this, it will eventually become a reality and the clock would freeze forever and let us enjoy our perfect moments. Who knows?