The Flame of David

Despite my goal of actually doing some homework, I found myself distracted by a red candle found in our twist-tie drawer. Finally having another color to add to an on-going art project, I asked permission to burn it and then proceeded to add some red to my yellow and white mess of wax.

Like a moth, I kept looking at the flame. It didn't dance like it used to. It burned perfectly still. It formed a perfect cone, the kind that scientists dream of having when using their burners. The sight made me sleepy, and I soon blew out the flame to sleep. The smoke from the candle swirled in the wind caused by my movement towards the couch to sleep and formed ghosts that slowly disappeared as I slept.

I didn't dream. I haven't had a good dream in a while. Time just left me for a few hours.

I woke up, and resumed the burning project as if I had nothing better to do. I tried to read my World Mythology assignment, but couldn't make it past five sentences before throwing the binder onto my reading spot. I seem to read and understand things better if I read in my bed. I thought about actually doing my drawing assignment, but then I remembered that my teacher said to just be ready to work on it come Monday. Clay is an easy assignment, which is to bring some small item that we'll eventually make bigger in a scale exercise.

I must have sat there for four hours doing nothing but staring at the perfectly still flame as it burned and melted the candle slowly down to where it would actually contribute to the artwork.

Then it hit me. Then he hit me. The hypnotic flame awoken a sick and twisted series of wishes. A sick and disgusting number of wants to happen whose origins are more than likely rooted in the fact that I want to feel like the better man for once.

All of them involving David.

The flame burned away the candle. David burned away in my mind. My heart triggered a familiar pain that I wish I could have grown numb to.

David once told me that he would date me if Bobby never came into his life. I should have taken that another way, but I took it to heart. His comment remains there, buried in all the pain that I feel. David. He's a kind man. He's something else. He's the kind of guy that everyone wishes they had as a husband, and some, like myself, wish they could be. He provides for Bobby unrelentingly, sometimes to the point where he is in debt and has to work like hell just to get out. He's also a man of strong morale. He tried to get myself and the others to make up and be friends. I failed him there, but I know he's better than me in that he more than likely has gotten over everything and is moving on with his life an his career.

Still, that comment... that line.... that one thing he said that I wish somewhere could happen.

I'm so greedy. So selfish. Why do I want these things? What is it about me that just want these things that are playing in my head to happen? Why do I think these things?

I can't get over it. I can't get over them. It's impossible. I try, and I try, but I cannot do it alone. I know everyone tells me I need to get over it on my own, but I just can't! It's too hard by myself! I'm not strong enough. I'm not brave enough. I can't face whatever it is I cannot get over. Not by myself.

I need a David in my life.

I need David.