Love As A Fire

When people ask me how it felt to love you, I want to say it was like a wildfire. That something that started as small and innocent as a campfire in my heart rose up so the ruby and the auburn could tango into the night and before I knew it my entire being was engulfed in wondrous flames that were welcoming and warm yet so fierce it frightened me a little. 

And then I remember, in a science lesson one time, we learned about fires and how they needed heat, fuel and oxygen in order to burn. 

And I remember my eyes growing wide with fear as they locked with yours of sheer hate and disgust, and my muffled screams running for their lives through the slight gaps in your fingers pressed so hard over my mouth until I grew limp as my soul began to leave with them. 

And I remember how happiness turned to sadness and tears of laughter turned to tears of regret and how I hated myself so much that i couldn't find it in myself to love another human being that wasn't you... so I stopped returning my mothers calls and I stopped watching rom coms and instead I bound myself to our bed imprisoned by 4 melancholy-wall-reminders of my own sorrow and the only source of warmth came from rum with no chaser. 

And I remember how my passion for writing, which had once blossomed so beautifully like a sunflower ever-growing and reaching out desperately to some greater being like the sun, began to wither the day I met you until it died out and i was left as a shell of a girl. 

And then I wonder how I could ever describe my love for you as a fire when you starved me of the very 3 things I needed to flourish.