There’s a promise that fire holds. It promises to burn, and yet we find it hurtful when we do wind up stinging, skin red and eyes tearing. It isn’t the fault of fire that we burn, yet it is the fault we have in distrusting its promise, believing it will be something else instead. We want to experience, to trust and believe in good. We want to learn by error.
But if errors mark our journey, then why do we aim for lack of it? Its strange. In search for the error-free alternative we find ourselves drawn to error-filled realities.
If a promise to burn is ignored, and it does burn us, but is expected, then the pain of a perfection that will never come to us surely is less expected, and far more damaging.
Around us are broken soles, worn down by the heat of beneath our feet. As much as we try to find solace in this hurt, we only find that we are resting in it, or defiantly fighting through it. More often than not it is the former, and instead of burned, we are burning. The full anguish of defeat, is cold and menacing, nothing like the warm heat we so crave, and yet so fear.
What is this post about? No idea, its my train of thought, and my fingers bear no filters to the ideas. Perhaps it is about the promise of one who promises to fail us, but we believe they are better simply because they know what damage they can do.
There is a certain beauty in the acknowledgement of failure in someone else, where we find ourselves lacking of a perfection to fight, but an imperfection to embrace.
Perhaps we burn, because we want to hurt together, and find their flames licking our hearts as a comforting torture. I’d rather suffer with the hurt I know is to come, and accept it will, than unsuspectingly be thrown into the darkest pits, abandoned and unsuspecting. Thats why I love you.
Let me feel your fire.