Dollar Store Candle

I had planned on taking a nap this afternoon. I mean the weather is just perfect for it, raining with just a touch of thunder and lighting. But laying here with most all the lights turned out. I can hear the rain hitting the window AC with the slightest scent of vanilla burning off my Dollar Store candle. Your face is burned into my memory, conversations tip-toeing around we really want to say. Telling the same old stories we tell ourselves each and every time.

But it’s our canopy of protection, our secret escape plan. Like a moat built around a castle wall, it’s that little extra overkill to keep pain away. We appear so open, so available to what others say. And in a way it’s so very true, we are available and open to help. But to open ourselves to a position of vulnerability it’s a god-damned scary thing. Because at some point we did that, usually when we were very young. Then without shame or remorse someone/something snatched it away from us.
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So we live our lives giving without getting. Giving without being vulnerable because one too many times we’ve watched it happen. We’ve watched sincerity and even gratitude turn into wanting and expecting. Till all the obligation we ever felt because of our own damaged lives melts away. Standing at the river between what we really want and what we really have. I look across and I see what you see. Pain, desire, toughness, and fear. For once we’d love to tear down this wall. Each day we chip at the mortar and loosen the bricks. Patience. I keep telling myself…patience. So that dollar store candle burns reminding me every day.