*Master Of Fire*

You know the way in the scary movies, there are dark rooms with a defective light bulb that flashes so much it gives you a headache and makes you nervous because you see what's in there really.
I am standing there.
That’s how my future looks like at the moment. I see shapes and silhouettes, but I’m not quite sure of what’s in there. You are going to tell there’s nothing new here and it’s the same for everyone. But the thing is I usually am fully in the dark, or fully in the light. The light bulb is broken or perfectly working, but not faulty and unsure.
And in the dusty corners, in the spider webs and the cracking paint behind me, I can see the mistakes I made lately, and the fade smiles of those who got hurt because of them. In a flash of light they’re happy again, and then I lose them, and I don’t know if they’re still around me or gone, lost in the dark.
And the candle in my hand is burning down and melting, the wax is leaking on my fingers and burning, burning and clotting me, every move is harder, takes more effort and the flame keeps getting smaller and smaller. Until it burns out and disappears? The flashing light hurts my eyes and the candle is not enough to compensate.
And that blanket around my shoulders, that used to hold me together and keep me warm is slipping off down to the floor, cursed to lie behind me, crumpled and dirty. Because of me, because I couldn’t hold it on my shoulders anymore.

I like metaphors and I’m good at them. Even if in the end I’m the only one understanding what I meant. Maybe that’s my problem. Maybe I should say things in a more straight forward way. Like I’m sorry or Why don’t you answer, you stupid. Can't you see you're hurting me and losing me for every word unanswered? I could do so many things if you’d let me to, if you let me close.

I’m scared.