Pyromaniac
7:59 am the time of my appointment with the therapist. The very same one that I was ordered to go see after that tomato juice incident at a bar in Arizona … ahh but time flies … was it really a year ago … time really flies when you’re having fun.
This time I’m going of my own free will … the ordered sessions were great and he says we have really covered a lot of ground and that I have improved … whatever that might mean, but honestly I have learnt to trust. The sessions are not as strained as they were, maybe we have made progress. I suppose that could be true; I mean I can string more than five sentences together before I lose interest and I am not as obsessed with the flames as I was …
They do still call to me though … the sweet roaring song of the dancing siren; gyrating golden hues, lapping up kindle, the sweetest lovers kiss …
I guess I will never really be able to forget my first love, and the euphoria I feel when the match crackles to life and she appears… eagerly awaiting my gifts that she can ignite and sensually spread her warmth over …
He says that I should not refer to her as a being, I should acknowledge that fire is an element and nothing more and while it can be a useful tool, that it can also be dangerous … and I should avoid it as far as possible …
I go over his words in my mind … maybe he could be right if he were blind but he isn’t, how can he not see her as I do …how her hair fans out into the night … how her body encapsulates her gifts as she absorbs them … how she rains down sweet confetti of thanks, her sweet aroma that takes my breath away …
Maybe he will see her now … now that he is strapped in and ready to go … I’ve closed the blinds so that he can see her clearer … the whimpering is distracting me … I look up at him and see a glisten of panic reflecting in his eyes … I wish he would trust me … as I have trusted him … On this the anniversary day of our first appointment I have decided that it would be easier to show him … I will make a believer of him yet …
I strike a match and the sulfurous smell engulfs me and takes me to new heights of anticipation … there she is … soo beautiful … gliding slowly at first, shy to meet him … but moving faster still as she finds the gasoline drink I have left for her, she laps up his arm to shrieks of pleasure … finally, he is becoming a believer … look how he is moving, so eager to join her in her dance. he moved a little too fast for her … but ahh yes, he has finally slowed down to her pace and is swaying now as she covered him with her warmth ….
I feel a little let down as I am forcefully ushered out of the furnace and into the street … she has soared up the entire building and is towering over her prize like a skyscraper but she doesn’t even once look back to see what she has left behind as she leaps onto the next one and then the next … not once does she look back to see me…
Feeling Dejected as I’m folded into the back of the police car, I take one last look at her retreating form, my last hope that I will be able to say goodbye … but she never looks back … I guess she has moved on … I’m crushed and I feel so low … the rush has left me, she is gone.
My stomach clenches as I realize that it will be a while before I’ll see her again, and already I am craving her light and aching for her warmth…
The addictive vices of me … the pyromaniac.
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