Sometimes I find the most compelling truth in the lines of random text:
“One day, whether you are
14, 28 or 65, you will stumble upon someone who will start a fire in you that cannot die. However, the saddest, most awful truth you will ever come to find––is they are not always with whom we spend our lives.”
I suppose the mistake I made was assuming that one with such a profound influence on me would remain present for awhile and continue to fan this wondrous flame that he ignited. Unfortunately it turns out that this was not the case. At first, his disappearance was painful and I felt it all the way down to my bones. I ached from the relentless, deep, dark, dampening pain. But when the disorienting fog of rejection finally dissipated the warmth from the flame remained.
I was stunned to find the fire he started was still there. The flames weren't the same life-affirming spectacular flames that danced across my path as before, but were more like flickering embers that tiptoed in my shadow whispering, "I'm still here." Those flickering embers were here to stay; their soothing comfort provided a steady tender quiet glow.
Maybe my path was not meant to be illuminated by the unending flash of intense fire; perhaps the momentary blaze was meant as just a match to stir the embers, clear away the suffocating ash and stoke the fire that was already there.
I suppose the mistake I made was assuming that one with such a profound influence on me would remain present for awhile and continue to fan this wondrous flame that he ignited. Unfortunately it turns out that this was not the case. At first, his disappearance was painful and I felt it all the way down to my bones. I ached from the relentless, deep, dark, dampening pain. But when the disorienting fog of rejection finally dissipated the warmth from the flame remained.
I was stunned to find the fire he started was still there. The flames weren't the same life-affirming spectacular flames that danced across my path as before, but were more like flickering embers that tiptoed in my shadow whispering, "I'm still here." Those flickering embers were here to stay; their soothing comfort provided a steady tender quiet glow.
Maybe my path was not meant to be illuminated by the unending flash of intense fire; perhaps the momentary blaze was meant as just a match to stir the embers, clear away the suffocating ash and stoke the fire that was already there.
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