Who started the fire? Who knows. At first it was just playing around with a couple of matches, a couple of embers, a few sparks here and there. They'd die down as quickly as they appear, but it's always fun while it lasted. It was a game, see who could hold out the longest before hurriedly blowing out the flame before things got too heated.
It's always been just a bit of fun, a way to brighten up the day, nothing too serious, it's not as if we're really doing much at all. The thrill of the burn, the excitement of the dancing fire. Testing, testing, see how it goes. Unpredictable. Sometimes, you get hurt. Sometimes, you get burned. But it's so worth it. Because somewhere in there still, you know you can make the fire again. You know it may not last long, but it still does work, sometimes. Sometimes you burn out all the matches, wasted away and your thirst for the fire is left unfufilled. It makes you sad, it makes you angry, but there's nothing you can do, except hope it works better next time.
But don't you sometimes wish it could be more than the casual flipping of matches, more than the odd spark which sets your heart alight. Sure, creating the fire purely to put it out is fun. But it's also fun to watch it burn. Allowing it to become wholly consuming, letting it greedily swallow up everything in sight. Observe as it grows, from such a tiny speck of light in your life, to a strong, roaring, powerful flame. Let it progress from something you control, to something that you have no order over. Sure, it's as scary as hell - what if you need to stop the fire? You need to be able to control it. You need to be in control, otherwise, who knows what could happen?!
I would *love* to be playing with matches right now, blowing it out as it got a little too heated, perhaps having a couple of blisters. I don't know what happened but apparently I got drenched in petrol back there somewhere.
ReplyDelete