She went on her tiptoes and reached for the candle sitting up on the shelf. With the slash of air and the match embracing, the candle sneezed and fire glimmered above its head. On a small plate, she let the candle shine up the room, spin our minds with memories of sweet vanilla.
"Isn't it depressing how this little light brings us so much joy, but in reality, it is slowly dying?" She whispered as she rubbed her bottom lip.
"I think it is trying its best." I lifted my eyes from my reading book.
"What do you mean? It's just a candle."
"It isn't just a candle," I let the book rest on my lap, "it's just like us."
"How?" She sat up on the couch and pulled the blanket closer to her chest.
"I mean... isn't the candle's purpose to be lighted? To fill up a room with sweet, beautiful smells of vanilla? To bring us warmth as we slowly close our eyes? For that tiny smile that peeks out of your lips? Here it is, doing just that. It's purpose. And it's trying its best till the last breath of fire. We could learn from that."
"You said it's just like us. How?" She curiously asked.
"Well, if you think about it, when we come onto this planet, we're strangely destined to do something. We're always trying our best to become the best doctor, or engineer, or painter, or dancer, or whatever it is that you love to do. You try to fill yourself with happiness till it bubbles out of you. Here, the candle is filled with the sweet smell of honey and vanilla. And it is bubbling out of it into a cloud of smoke that travels around this room, giving us tiny tastes of happiness. We bubble with our passions and our drives at bettering the voice inside our heads till our last breath. Sometimes, halfway there, we stop trying. We ask ourselves what's the point of trying if you will eventually die? But the reality is that, if you stop trying, you'll end up on your deathbed sooner than you think, with your body shaking and you whispering how you wish you had another second. Had another chance to continue your passion for music, art, science. A year from now you will be asking yourself why didn't I start this sooner? But if you continue trying for the longest time that by the time you reach your 80s or 90s, you'll realize that your little life was so much more than that. You no longer feel burdened by regrets of what if that day, instead of this, I did that. So, yeah, I do think we should learn a little something from inanimate objects, because hey, they're just doing their best."
YOU ARE READING
therapy
Short Story"they told us that we needed therapy, as if medication and tainted words could fix broken toys."
