Fire

I have been on fire a total of three times in my life. All completely different from each other.

The first time I am only just a child and in a life or death situation. The flames whip around me, burning my skin leaving blisters that I think will never heal.The pain...It is horrendous. The smoke heavy in my lungs as I fight against the fire. I won’t let the fire consume me. I would get out and did. I did not let the fire consume me.

The next time I am a pre-teen. The burns and blisters that I thought would never heal are now just a faint scar. I am on fire but a different kind. This kind does not hurt in the way the last one did but I can feel the heat. I can feel it growing stronger and hotter in my chest. Some of it even leaking onto my face. This fire is different, it makes my face go pink. I try and fight it, to extinguish the fire. Like last time, I can’t allow the fire consume me, not matter how much they want me to.

The last time I am an adult. I am going through my life vowing to never allow myself to be on fire again but now I am afraid I have broken that vow. I am on fire again. A hot heat in my chest but unlike the times before the heat isn’t burning. It is pleasant and I embrace it. It makes me smile and laugh. It makes me feel light and happy. I give in to the fire and let it consume me. I finally am able to learn that not all fires hurt.