“And you’ll always love me, won’t you?” “Yes.” “And the rain won’t make any difference?” “No.” “That’s good. Because I’m afraid of the rain.” “Why?” I was sleepy. Outside the rain was falling steadily. “I don’t know, darling. I’ve always been afraid of the rain.” “I like it.” “I like to walk in it. But it’s very hard on loving.” “I’ll love you always.” “I’ll love you in the rain and in the snow and in the hail and—what else is there?”
Metaphor for the hardships of war
