Each of us is born with a box of matches inside us but we can’t strike them all by ourselves; we need oxygen and a candle to help. In this case, the oxygen for example, would come from the breath of the person you love; the candle would be any kind of food, music, caress, word, or sound that engenders the explosion that lights one of the matches. For a moment we are dazzled by an intense emotion. A pleasant warmth grows within us, fading slowly as time goes by, until a new explosion comes along to revive it. Each person has to discover what will set off those explosions in order to live, since the combustion that occurs when one of them is ignited is what nourishes the soul. That fire, in short, is its food. If one doesn’t find out in time what will set off these explosions, the box of matches dampens, and not a single match will ever be lighted.

Laura Esquivel, Like Water for Chocolate

This passage came to mind this cold damp day. Maybe the clouds are weighing on me. The sky feels heavy.

I close my eyes and imagine it opening up to blue and sunshine and warmth so my match might light. Air from the breath of the person I love. Is it you? Can it be you? It will be on some Spring day. Daydreams of love. It comes back to that. It is the refrain in-between the things that must be done to live ; to work; to move; to just get by.

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