In The Candlelight

By

Elizabeth

The smoke curls up from the match in my fingers and I put it down carefully in the growing pile next to the candle. I light another match just for the hell of it and watch again as the smoke makes patterns in the air. I lean over and turn off the light before I light another match. It catches from the flame of the candle with a hiss and a spark. I hold it until it burns out, just watching the flame, then I light it again. It won’t stay lit, so I keep lighting it until it begins to curl over. I like candles. I have lit them nearly every night since the first time. I read somewhere that only papists burn candles. I don’t even know what a papist is. I just want to feel safe.

I light candles because they bring me closer to certain people. They remind me of what it was like. They remind me how fragile and fickle life is. If my candle tipped too much to the side, if I left it for an hour, would I come back to find my room ablaze? I light candles for every person I don’t have in my life anymore. I light them for all the people I have never had. I light them for the people I hope one day to know.

I light them because they’re beautiful. I like how they cast the entire room into shadows. I like to make love with candles in the background. It’s seductive, and it enhances every slight movement. I like making love in candlelight because you can see into the eyes of the person you are with. In candlelight you can see their soul.

I like how I look in candlelight. You can’t see the awkward bumps in my figure. You can’t see the imperfections in my face. You can’t tell that I’ve got marks on my body. All you can see is my outline and the shadows of my features. My eyes look dark and intense. My hair looks like it curls gently and falls down my back. When I stand in candlelight in only my underwear, you can’t tell that I’m crying.

In candlelight, you can’t tell that I’m broken.

I like how when you look at a flame and then look away, you still have imprints in your vision. It’s like a metaphor for people you love. Even if they’re gone, their impression is still with you. I just want to be with them. I like to run my fingers through the flame at the right speed so it feels warm but doesn’t burn. Sometimes I try to love like that. I try to care enough that I feel warm, but I don’t get hurt when it inevitably comes to an end. With some candles you get a dark mark across your fingers after you put them through the flame.

I have dark marks in other places.

When you blow out a candle you almost suffocate from the strange smell. I suffocate in other ways.

I like that candles are always what you want them to be. I like that they depend on you to keep them going. I like that they flicker but always come back to you. I like that candles don’t judge you. I like that candles don’t tell you that you’re not good enough for them, or that they’ve lost their feelings for you. I like that you can’t tell a candle you’re not good enough for them. I like that you don’t have to let candles go.

I like that candles don’t try to be something that they’re not. I like that something so small can fill the room with so much light. I like that candles say everything you want to say with no words at all. I love that candles are so romantic. I love that if you sit in a darkened room with lit candles you can almost feel God. I love that when you light a candle, you are one flame closer to the ones you love.

I love that in the candlelight there is nothing but truth. I like that if I tell you I love you tonight, then you’ll believe me.

There is only truth in candlelight.