Candlelight

Why is magic always spectacularly beautiful? Because most of the time, it is an illusion. And in the few times that it is real, it simply doesn’t last.

In life, the magic of love is something that’s never seen through the eyes. For it can only be imagined through the lovers’ passionate minds. Which makes me understand why the most romantic moments happen by candlelight. When you sit there at the table and all that you can see of your lover is a silhouette, your mind is free to imagine. It is free to create its own magic. When all that’s in front of you is a talking silhouette, there are no flaws for you to see. There is no dark past to worry about. No beauty to bedazzle or intimidate you. No great expectations to live up to. No people to watch you and judge you for the kind of love you choose to have. Nothing there to shatter all your most romantic fantasies. All that’s there for you to see is a shadow saying the most soothing words. Words you would barely hear. Words whose meanings you wouldn’t care to know because they are soothing for the simple reason that they are spewed out by your beloved one’s burning heart. The dim candlelight lets you see all you need to see. And the surrounding darkness conceals everything you need not know. The darkness, that mysterious darkness, endows you with the freedom to believe that only the most beautiful things remain hidden in the dark.

The worst tragedy of life is that the magical candlelight, the one that lets every mortal person blissfully experience magic, is never found standing safely on a table inside a closed room. It is always out in the open, burning but perpetually at the mercy of the capricious wind. You can choose when and where to light that candle. But you can never choose when and where the wind shall blow. And when you and your lover are seated by the candlelight, blissfully marveling at the ethereal beauty created by the romantically dim light, what can you do to make sure the wind wouldn’t blow the flame? What do you do to make sure that the sky wouldn’t shower the candle with rain? What do you do to make sure the magic lasts? Nothing. You can never beg the wind to grant you mercy. You can never ask the clouds not to burst when they should. And so you have no choice but to make the most out of the little time given you. And when the rain finally falls, or the wind finally blows your way, you can only pray that when the candle is lit again, the lover would still be there with you. Because chances are, if she finds herself in the dark, she’d be searching for another light.

What do you do after the candlelight vanishes? When the magic suddenly disappears and you find yourself longing for it? You find a way to light the candle, of course. But what if that flame had been extinguished too many times? If the wind and the sky refused to grant you mercy too many times? Hell, I don’t know what you should do. But what I did was to begrudge God for being too kind to everyone else and too harsh on me. “Why are the others’ candles perpetually burning while mine always gets extinguished by the wind and the rain?” I thought. Yet no matter how many times I cursed God and fate, the candle never lighted itself.

Now that I find myself in the dark again, I also find myself cursing God. Cursing the capricious wind and the cruel sky. Soon, however, I’m sure the anger would drain my strength. And I would find myself being fuelled by hope. Because there wouldn’t be anything else to drive me. Again, I would pray for the wind not to blow my way. Again I would beg the sky not to let the rain fall. And perhaps again I would be appalled. But what better thing can I do? That’s simply the way things work in this sick world. A man dreams. He works hard for that dream. And then fate shatters that dream. But the man would have no choice but to create a new dream, lest he spend the rest of his life tormented by his frustration. The only way to deal with the pain of seeing a dream vanish is to dream anew. A man falls in love, sacrifices a lot for that divine love and then suddenly finds himself bearing the pain of heartbreak. But that man will have no choice but to love again, lest he spend the rest of his life being pitifully lonely. The only way to heal the pain caused by love is to love anew.

I am in the dark. I am furious. I am tired. But I am still about to light that candle again. And I am praying that when the light returns to show me the magic again, I would still be looking at the same silhouette I had been staring at before.

The wind, the sky, my God, I beg you….