Candles have this weird effect on me
Burn it down! ………..the candle, I mean.
Yesterday, my sister came into my room and asked if she could have a candle. I reluctantly handed her one that was already half burned, and she gave me this glare – “Why so selfish?” it asked.
If it were a book, an article of clothing, or pretty much anything else, I probably would have given it to her without a second thought.
But candles are special. They just do something to me. Every single time I strike a match and hold it to the charcoal-black wick, some unknown warmth grows inside of me.
Maybe it’s the brand. I refuse to buy anything but Bath & Body Works. Maybe it’s the scent, that pervades the room even when it’s not being burnt, that makes my sister comment everytime she walks into my room how perfumey and fragrant the whole vicinity smells.
Maybe it’s the initial sputtering that accompanies the triple wicks as they gasp for air to burn in those first few seconds. Maybe it’s the glow that it casts that dances off the walls, the candle I place just within my peripheral vision on the left side of my desk.
In my previous post, “Alphabetical Advice From The Soul,” I summed up this sentiment with the phrase: Indulge once in a while, and for good reason.
Thus, I tend to only buy candles in the fall and winter months, and I cherish the time I get to spend with their waxy, fragrant deliciousness.
There are certain “things:” objects, material possessions, activities, and guilty pleasures that unknowingly and unexplainably give us warmth, and that’s okay.
You owe no explanation to your peers, and I really think the difference made by these little indulgences is evident.
My current favorite scents? Autumn (depicted above) and Mahogany Teakwood, which smells of cologne and Abercrombie & Fitch.
Loving music currently – thanks to my friend Connor!