Wax and Wane

Candle

She watched the candles burn slowly, shrinking with each moment that passed. Their wax began to drip and meld into a center pool, seeping into the grain of the wooded table. A glance at the ticking clock on the wall told her what she already knew- he wasn’t coming after all.

She’d known it all along, but couldn’t bring herself to admit it before she’d gone through all the trouble of getting ready. There was something about knowing in your gut that someone was too good for you that you had to ignore, wasn’t there? Surely you were worthy of their affections; even though you knew you could never live up to their expectations- certainly you deserved the chance to prove yourself inadequate.

This road of wondering, she knew from experience, could take hours. She didn’t have hours- not anymore. This happened too often. Maybe it was her, always building up what didn’t yet exist in the hopes that she could culminate it. Maybe it was the men she chose, lofty in their suits, gesturing around the room with glasses full of whiskey as they spoke, the smell of money oozing from their pores. Perhaps it was simply this city. A city which she once dreamt could bring her everything she wanted- the job of her dreams, good friends, and a good man. She’d been cheated. With a deep sigh, she stood and blew out the candles, watching the wax slowly begin to film over as it cooled.  Tonight was awash. Tomorrow was anew. She’d start again.

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