Matches and Candles

If you have other things in your life—family, friends, good productive day work—these can interact with your writing and the sum will be all the richer. (David Brin)

            The wind roared every time it hit the old building of the dormitory I lived in back then. The wardrobe doors kept opening since the windows and the front door were unable to be sealed perfectly. I was alone, as I am every Saturday night – both roommates gone. I bought some candles that day, so I decided to lit them and enjoy the time I had for myself, without rapport talk (which I did enjoy, from time to time, however the girls usually wanted to talk during my prayers, so I tried to do it anytime they weren´t here). I found a box of matches, took one and stroke it.  

I was always amazed byfire. At summer camps or barbecues, I was the one who just sat by the fire and kept staring in it. The flames dancing and trembling in the light summer wind, the feeling of the heat on my skin, the light I couldn´t resist looking into, it all consumed me inside out. I wasn´t the crazy girl who set things on fire everywhere she went, no. I just enjoyed the presence of fire. There was something peaceful and calming on the flames. At my younger age, I wondered how unfair it was they´d have fire in hell. Later on, my opinion changed, and I realized I hadn´t been aware of the fact those in hell would probably stand in it, not watch it as I do. I also never wanted our house of school to be burnt to dust. As I said, I am no crazy. As long as enjoying fire isn´t crazy. I looked down on my hand with the burning match in it. 

Matches. Such an insignificant thing in terms of helpful gadgets and devices of the twenty-first century and in terms of keeping the fire as well. We could simply use another one, and then another one. But the fire it created was always unique, no two flames were lit up in the same circumstances. We use matches for lighting a candle when a baby is baptized. We use those on birthdays, dates and weddings as a symbol of celebration. However, we use the same matches and candles for remembering a person who left us, we cry and pray with candles, we try to burn things with matches we want to forget. Insignificant things. Still essentially present in every important moment of our lives. As if the fire of the match was similar to the fire of a man. Stroke, created in a moment of heated emotions, in the moment of unifying desires being satisfied and burnt in the most beautiful way. New life ignited with the union of two other lives, with their own sparks they create a fire, enjoyable for the later and life-giving for the former. Life created in a stroke, just as when God said: “Let it be.” And there it was, fruitful, green, warm and cold, wet and dry, with oceans and hills and animals and flowers, with forests and desserts and… people. His words are strokings of matches called creation. And what they created is diverse, colourful and is indeed a fire.

            So here I was, standing in my dorm room, stroking a match, watching the sparkles and the way it lit the candle. I didn´t blow the match out, I held it in my hand, watching her short-term light ending naturally as it reached the end of the small wooden stick. It died, in a way, but it left a treasure here – it left my candle lit and my soul calm. It lived its life for such a short time it was almost meaningless for eternity. But it wasn´t meaningless for me. It brought light and warmth and hope into my life. A used match may never be reignited, but it´s not the match that matters, it´s what it had done. A person´s life seems to be meaningless considering eternal perspective. But every movement of our bodies, every word leaving our mouths, every glance and whisper and deed and especially everything inside their hearts effects it greatly because people aren´t matches without reigniting. Their souls will be eternal, enjoying or suffering for the fire they created on Earth. For those who didn´t lit a candle there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth, but for those whose source, whose box or surface stroke against, was true Light, no weeping only joy awaits.

            I smiled at the sight of the lit candle. I put it on my bedside, laid down and prayed. I don´t really know what I prayed about, but I remember the small flame of the candle trembling in the air blast the windows let in. It wasn´t really a strong storm outside, but it was probably strong enough to snuff it out. Eventually, it did. But it´s already done what I needed – calmed me down and helped me fix my eyes and thoughts on eternal things. Even in darkness, I still saw a light. Even in my own lifelong storms I wasn´t snuffed out. The reason is that darkness and death are not knowing, but trusting and knowing are life. I wasn´t amazed by the fire anymore, I was amazed by its Creator. He, who created it, was Light itself, before times started and will be forever. I felt thankful for the people God used as matches in my life and knew I wasn´t only a lit candle, but a useful match in others´ lives, and I wanted to be used. I thought of my friends, and my teachers, and my parents and my enemies. I hoped their candle wouldn´t be easily snuffed out in any circumstances.

            I opened my eyes to see the empty room, enlightened only by the Christmas lights we still didn´t put down since January. I saw loads of books and materials I studied that day for school. I thought of the next day´s church and wondered if Peter´s brother was going to make it on time – it would be the first time if he had. I felt tired, so I didn´t call back my Mom even if I had two missed calls from her. I hoped she prayed that night too, and that we´ll meet in a few days. We didn´t.
That was the night she passed away. The thirtieth of March 2015. I knew who the next candle would be lit for.

Necessary Confession

„Good night, then.“ he said. One could hear he was almost sleeping, but even if he was tired, he enjoyed the conversation they just had had. As all the previous ones.

This was their anniversary. However, they weren´t dating. They were just friends. But this was their seventh year of friendship, which started back on the elementary school and was strong and true enough to be retained.

Adam and his family moved to western Slovakia two years ago – his father got his dream job there – that was their first hardship. Since then, they kept in touch by phone. They talked almost everyday, but neither of them tried to neglect their other friends. It wasn´t easy, but it worked. They talked trough hundreds of nights since then. This was one of them.

„Sleep well,“ she murmured, with a smile on her face. She turned over on the bed, making the duvets swoosh. Julia just graduated from high school – just that day – and felt really exhausted. She was an A-student all her life, and she remained an A-student on her graduation exams as well. Obviously, he used to say. But it´s hard to keep your grades A-s and get enough sleep at the same time. She didn´t mind, as long as she got both the A-s and Adam.

He sighed, already asleep at the moment the call ended.

They arranged a meeting. His family invited her to spend a weekend at their house. She gladly agreed.  A week after graduation, therefore, she stood on the train station, waiting for the train to come.

Julia enjoys travelling by train. You get to see the country in all of its colours, she says. You meet lots of interesting people, even though some are quite annoying. The only thing she hates are the toilets – stinky, cold and usually with holes in the floor, so you can see the rails underneath the train. If she doesn´t have to, she won´t use them. Well, that Friday, she simply had to.

Make it quick, Julia, or you´ll die of who knows what kind of infection, she whispered to herself so that she didn´t focus on the monotone sound of the train moving. Zip up, open the door and walk as fast as possible, that was her motto. She tried to look calm, although anyone who was watching her would see her eyes wide open and her pale face, and would certainly notice the unnatural way she tried to hide her face with her hand, pretending her forehead was itchy.

Apart from basic human needs, she could enjoy the way to Bratislava uniterruptedly. She listened to music, going through the playlist Adam made for her last summer. She was thrilled to see him, and kept recalling the memories as she listened to the songs they used to sing together in high school. She clearly remembered all those awkward topics they discussed together, from childish fears to sexual maturing.

„I want a woman who allows me to make her happy,“ he said when she pulled out that topic again.
„Is there really nothing you want from a relationship?“ she replied, wondering why all the other men couldn´t be like him.

„There are a few things, you know them.“

She did. He dreamt about a woman who would never diminish his opinions even if they were foolish. He wanted someone, who would motivate him to do his best, not push him into it. And secretely, he hoped she would be ginger. Julia wasn´t ginger.

„I do,“ she smiled when she answered. „I wish a man like you will once love me!“

„I love you, you know that.“

„Not that way.“ They never continued from this point, even though Julia always wished for him to do so. But not all wishes come true, right?

Adam was younger than her, almost two years younger, but he never seemed to be bothered by that. Neither of them were. He loved music and honest people. Today, it is dangerous to be sincere unless you´re also a fool, he says, but he truly admired and respected those, who decided to face that danger. He thought the world wasn´t upside down, it was just him who didn´t fit in. Having a nice family, lovely sister, happy childhood and clear life goals, he really stood out. He knew what he was looking for in a woman, but sometimes, he thought he forgot some important factors. He couldn´t find out which.

Now there he was, standing outside the station, waiting for his best friend to come for a weekend, thinking about their friendship so far. He hoped they would continue the relationship conversation once. He had questions.

The train arrived to Bratislava with a slight delay. She noticed him first. He held a sheet of paper saying „Julia, I hope you can see me!“ and wore the smile that not only Julia, but none of the women at the station could see.

Typical, she thought while she struggled to go down the stairs with her suitcase. She gave up after a short while and just threw it down on the platform.

„Don´t ever bother!“ she shouted, since she knew he surely noticed a red suitcase falling down from the train.

„Okay, I have enough time.“ he answered but he grabbed the suitcase with one hand and made a sigh when he realized how heavy it was.

„I didn´t know we´re so far in our relationship.“

„What?“

„I didn´t know you´re ready.“

„What on Earth are you talking about, Adam?“

„You know. To live with me,“ he whispered and lifted up her suitcase. „This would probably be all of your stuff, including your computer!“

„Oh, I brought some presents for your family, and you.“

He didn´t answer, just rolled his eyes and thought of the huge wasting she probably did last night while shopping. He was happy to see her. Julia was the one and only he let close enough to know everything. Literally.

The plan was to take a bus that went straight to his village. The delay caused them to miss that one, so they gained an hour extra to spend in the city. It was Friday evening, so even getting a salad at the groceries took them 30 minutes due to endless slowly-moving rows. It´s hard to count the coins when you´re drunk, and in the capital – lot of people get drunk. Then they walked to the bus station. Finally, she had her salad and he had her, eating, which was the only period except sleeping when she didn´t speak, so it was his turn to talk.

He talked about school being boring, hanging out with friends last week and this girl he´s been dating for almost a month now.

„She´s gorgeous and smart. Rare kind. I enjoy her company, I just don´t know how to speak to her. She´s never quiet. Rapport talk.“

She laughed while she tried to pick up a piece of cheese with the plastic fork. Eventually she grabbed it with her hand, looked around the station and put it into her mouth.

„I never stop talking either, and still you can tell me anything,“ she argued.

That was the problem. He knew that. He knew how to talk with Julia. He knew the exact reactions he would get for any kind of confession. He knew all the types of look her eyes could give. Looking at her lips, he allowed himself to believe, just for a second, and returned to Earth.  And down here, still, he had a thing with Becky.

They call it relationship. The romantic type.

„It´s not the same,“ he quickly murmurred, shifting his focus from her lips back to her eyes again. His mobile rang, the third time that evening, and he recieved another text message. He didn´t care.

„Something´s wrong?“ Julia knew it was Becky, but she didn´t want to force him to talk. She noticed him being nervous about something, but trusted him without asking.

Adam knew she was hoping for an explanation, but he was still creating the proper answer, so he tried to change the topic.

„You tell me. How ´bout John?“

The bus arrived.

„Getting worse. Never mind. We´ll talk when we get there. How is it called? The Behind God´s Back Village?“

Adam grinned. He grabbed her suitcase with one arm and her with the other one and walked her to the bus. They bought the tickets, shared his headphones, turned on the music and decided to ignore the complicated relationships they lived in, both convinced the other one needed to fix it without their help.

This wasn´t the first time they felt this. Both of them have been there before, without the other one knowing. According to statistics, you´re most likely to fall in love with your best friend. A strange loop, he called it. An unfulfilled dream in her eyes. It happened a few times during those seven years. They both found a way out in something else.

Julia hoped finding someone more perfect than he is could open her eyes to see his flaws. Result: flawless him, heartbroken her. And she started all over again. Viscious circle. She was getting close to the end of another chapter, named John, aged 22 and nothing what she was looking for. Probably because what she was looking for was named Adam, and lived at the other end of the country.

On the contrary, besides his short relationship, which usually didn´t last much longer than Julia´s, Adam was an expert in not caring. Once he decided not to think about it, it usually went great. Except when she was nearby. But that didn´t happen very often, so he closed all his attraction for her into a safe.

He kept staring out of the window when he realized the loud music wasn´t able to keep him distracted, and he couldn´t stop thinking of how lovely Julia´s hair is when she wears an updo. It made her look younger, which made him feel better.

They were almost sleeping when they came to the village. The street lighting wasn´t enough to break the dark, but sufficient for guiding them to the right house. Although it was a summer night, Julia shivered while they crossed the road and headed to the street. They ran up the small hill his house was at the top of, both eager to talk and listen.

They got in. She took a shower while he heated the food for late dinner. After a short argument they chose a movie to watch, sat down on the sofa and made a silent agreement that they will ignore the film and talk instead. Obviously, she opened the unread-text-messages-topic again.

„What´s wrong, Adam? Tell me about it.“

Oh, how unfair that was. She knew he would tell her if she asked him. He did.

Becky was constantly trying to stay in touch with Adam. By constantly, understand 24/7. She kept refusing to go out with her friends, because she wanted to spend time chatting with Adam instead. In addition, she expected him to do the same.

Julia sighed. How ridiculous! Adam is not that kind of a guy you can own! He loves his friends and family and wants to spend time with them, including Julia, of course. Now she understood why his phone was always busy. She felt anger, but didn´t know why. Julia wasn´t clearly aware of how jealous she looked like since she didn´t really care about any of her boyfriends that much as she did about Adam.

„On the other hand,“ he continued, „she is really funny.“ Becky paid a lot of attention to details, which made sense since she was an artist. Adam enjoyed the time spent with her, he just saw no future in them. Becky talked about lot of good things, but Julia spoke the truth to him every time. He knew how bad it was, only the thought of comparing them. What surprised him, however, was that he only thought of how it would hurt Julia, not Becky.

The film took an unexpected turn with the main character pulling out a gun and started shooting, so they muted the television.

„Do you think there´s someone out there who will be ideal for us?“ she asked, thinking of John and how she sees no future in them, either.

He smiled sadly, and offered his shoulder for her to lean on. Repaying the smile, she put her head down slowly on his shoulder, grabbing his arm with both hands, and she closed her eyes.

She´d admitted it a long time ago. He knew it from the beginning. Still, after such a long time, they were unable to tell each other. They didn´t have enough courage before, and now it was too late – he left.

Now it lingered in the room and they both felt it. You can force yourself to think of something else, but once you say it out loud, it won´t come back. But they both desperately needed to say what was on their mind out loud.

She took a deep breath, feeling his warm and spicy scent, and decided to speak out.

„You first.“ That was it? She pulled her inner me into a boxing ring and was beating her up inside her mind for this, in her eyes, stupid and useless start of a conversation she´d been waiting for years. You first. First what? She´s the one who has problems! She is unable to stay in a relationship with good guys, because she constantly thinks of a „better guy“. She´s the one who has to talk about feelings and hopes and dreams and that they´re all connected to Adam. Yet, all she does is she tells him to start. To start... what exactly? She said it as if she knew something was going on with him as well.

The silence was deafening, but not uncomfortable. She frowned since she was angry with herself for her stupid reaction. She was trying to make sense out of it. She remembered all the times he said he loved her, all those conversations about relationships they´d had before. Not that way, she used to reply. It was always her who replied. Always her who stopped the conversation. We all want to enjoy the rain, but we only keep protecting ourselves anytime it rains outside, her Mom used to say. That´s what she´s been doing for such a long while. It´s her fault the conversation never reached its end.

Adam smiled when he understood what that meant. After all those nights spent in guilty prayer to a god he didn´t even believe in, just to make sure someone except him would hear what he really feels. After such a long time trying not to think any of it, but it kept coming back, always stronger, always with new shared memories to be used as a weapon against his wall of disinterest. He felt no anger, nor regret. He was happy the moment came and made a decision that later he has to thank that uknown god.

There was only one thing he really needed to say. The rest was already lingering in the air.

„Not that way. That made me crazy. What way then, if not that one?“

Her heart stopped for a second while she tried to put together what he said with everything what she thought. Crazy how they can communicate without saying the actual words, huh? She was so crazy to think he isn´t attracted!

None of them moved. Why would they? After all, they had two options and disliked both of them. Is it better to start something they both wanted so bad, thus putting in danger their sincere and clear friendship, or is it right to choose the opposite, work on their pure friendship and letting time show them what to do? The only thing they both knew was they needed to sort out their relationships with Becky and John.

Finally, they started to talk. It went slowly. Confessions, apologies and tears, all welling from the deepest dephts of their souls, well protected and controlled before, helped them realize not only how truly in love they were even before they were aware of it, but also how profusely they must had hurt their partners by not being honest to themselves and each other. They talked through the weekend, spent it remembering, laughing and crying but certainly not regretting, since they knew this weekend was the start of something new despite being the end of the period they didn´t have to deal with their feelings. Now, at least, they could fight through them together.

They both broke up. John took it fine, Becky... not so fine. But she´s strong, Adam said, she´ll be okay eventually. They also made a promise they would never pretend anything again, and that they would always be honest to themselves. They didn´t enter into a relationship, obviously, not that weekend nor that year.

Looked like lots of things they were used to, suddenly ended. But you always need and ending in order to start again. You need to mark the omega to every chapter of your life you once started with an alpha. Even if you didn´t realize the alpha before, once you know it´s there, you know you´re getting closer to the omega. But that´s absolutely okay. Nothing´s wrong with endings, as soon as the story that ended was worth living for.