Eternal Flame

You know those fireplaces, the gas ones? They have that little pilot light. I have a pilot light inside me. I call it anxiety. For the most part it is there, keeping my wits about me, keeping me alert and using common sense. It's a good thing, I suppose.

I also have an overactive imagination. I consider this the wind within me ( I know, I laughed as I wrote this totally awkward metaphor. cue wind beneath my wings. corny much? but still, it's true). It takes my mind on magic carpet rides into exciting hypotheticals. It can, on occasion, blow me over, but I like windy days just fine. Usually it remains in light breezes to brighten my life and make everything more enjoyable.

Every once in awhile, the world throws some gas my way. Sometimes it is related to an unfortunate event or a particular week of the year, but sometimes it comes seemingly out of the blue. This, when combined with a pilot light creates a fire. I can ride out a contained fire. But, if the wind picks up the fire surges and all I can feel is fear. It too shall pass, the wind does die down eventually, the gas burns out and the pilot light is left as it is.

There is one week of the year, where the wind gusts with negative hypotheticals as a result of unpleasant memories; the perceived dangers everywhere throw gas on my pilot light and I feel as if I'm looking at the world through paranoid schizophrenic lenses. I approach the week with bated breath. Every year the fire roars a little less, the pain of memories of a world shattered soften ever so slightly and the world seems a little less evil.

Not to be cliche (or exaggerate greatly), but I love life, humanity, our country, my undergraduate university and our nation's capital as much or more than the next guy...and maybe this is why those evil shadows seem even more threatening because all of these gifts are so lovely. I love it all, despite these unavoidable shadows, but hope someday I won't see the monsters lurking in every shadowy corner.