you laughed. laughed heartily while we were at your garage getting drunk on happiness. at some point I picked your gasoline up and I began to douse myself with it. your hands didn't stop me at first. in fact you were amazed that I was even doing that in the first place. after twenty minutes you had a Zippo in your hand and you set me aflame. I revelled in your fire. I relished it like no other. after a while you got bored of me. seeing the same old flame burn was way too monotonous for you yet you said nothing and just watched while I continued pouring your gasoline on my bodice. I realised that you had stopped lighting me. I asked why. there was no reply, only, "I am not worthy of you." in quiet hushed tones. I missed your fire. I grabbed your Zippo and set myself alight, but again you only watched and it did not feel the same. there was no warmth in self-inflicted burns, and your eyes seemed to wander. here i am, cinders of that one time, and still I wish you would set me alight again.