Scrambled

A reflection

I wish I was a mirror. So that I could see myself for who I am.

I'm sitting by the window. It's raining outside. A hot cup of black coffee and a cigarette warm me, while a lit candle creates a reflection on the window. I look at the light.
Among the droplets of rain, doomed to fall, until they eventually evaporate from the black corridors of the city everyone knows so much of, right there, there is a light. One of a kind. And one among many.
And it stays in it's place. Occasionally dancing on the soft breeze that squeezes through the window shaft. You don't see the stalk, or the melting wax. Only the light is present in it's own reflection. After all, what is a candle if it's not lit?

I'm jealous of the flame. It warms itself, dependant on nothing, dancing in it's place lively and happily, ignorant that once, it too, will perish. I wish I could do the same. Look at myself in the reflection, draw out what is important in me, and display it on the major canvas.

No... I'm not like that. And I know it. My life is dull and my soul is important to none. I am a bystander. I sit, and observe. I watch people having delightful conversations, bringing joy into theirs and others' lives. Desperately clinging to breaking the monotony that defines us all. We are all droplets of rain. From the moment we fly across the heavens, enjoying the beauty, relishing what life had given to us, happily bracing ourselves for the world that awaits us with open arms. Only to realize, that we cannot stop falling. We come closer and closer to the ground aware of the fact that at one point, we will fall.

We try to look away. After all, it's much more beautiful to look towards the sky as you're falling. At least we will have something to take away with ourselves when the time come. And we fall... Fleeting, just like a drop of rain.

But, no one sees the sky the same. Those conversations, moments, broken and mended hearts, they fill the sky. For each of us. Differently.

My sky? It is dull. A few stars, if any shine in my nocturnal view. I was too caught up. Caught up, trying to realize, why am I falling? From how high did I start my final destination? What am I made off? Who... Who am I?

Yes... Who am I? Am I not just a droplet? The same as all the rest? What makes me different? What part of my core is reflecting that candle's flame, oblivious to all else? I realized, these questions made the most of my day. Day to day dreams of longing for something. Love, happiness, accomplishment, tragedy. I always looked outwards. Seeking things that would define me and answer the question I asked myself. After all, how else could I find the answer? My mind was too unfocused, my heart too dull and shallow, what I couldn't observe I couldn't explain. I always needed to see, looking at other people because, somehow, I couldn't look at myself.

I tried. I wanted to fill my night sky with stars, but somehow, all I ever felt, was wrong. I started believing happiness was not meant for me. My sky was destined to be dark and empty. So, I adjusted. Spoke to no one, keeping watch at the few stars that still gave me comfort. Losing myself in petty vices. My voice, silenced. However, my mind, was singing. As always it jumped from tune to tune, like a radio looking for a station, creating a twisted lullaby, that somehow sounded... Sad.

Perhaps, my candle was never meant to be lit? Maybe the mirror was right there in front of me, yet, I didn't have anything to see?

As I thought that, the same feeling started gushing from my stomach... No. This was wrong.

I wish I was the flame.