They say if you’re born in a burning house you think the whole world is on fire.

Luckily for me, my beloved home is only a little bit warm. 

Growing up, the summers were hot and the winters were cold. There was nothing but room temperature love to keep the balance steady. 

I loved the feeling of happiness. As a child I was always laughing, smiling, and talking. 

People would laugh, smile, and talk with me too. Until it began to get hot in the room, their smiles would fade and laughter would quiet down. Sweat began to run down my face. Why was it so hot? Why are they so irritated? Was it me? Did I do something wrong? Maybe if I burned them too it would take the heat off of me. 

At the slightest sign of discomfort a match would light in my mind. Don’t get angry with me, why are you getting angry with me? I’ll get angrier with you. Please, don’t get angry with me. 

It was like trying to put a fire out with gasoline. The rooms became angry and the people who of which shared this home with me had less and less patience. Why is everyone angry with me? Surely if I get angrier they’ll learn to stop. God I hope they learn to stop. 

They say if you’re born in a burning house you think the whole world is on fire.

But what if I’m the one lighting the match? 

Anonymous