Mars and Venus, in Orbit

Do you ever berate yourself for playing with fire? Especially right after your skin is swollen and hurting from the burns? With hindsight, the consequences are so clear.

And yet, the flickering flames, licking the air around it, catching the oxygen around it and burning more brightly, are so inviting.

For years, I had stoically resisted. I had peered curiously at the dancing flames, sometimes mesmerised, sometimes awed, sometimes dismissive, sometimes suspicious. When those who had stretched their hands and faces towards it had come away burnt and crying, I had listened, consoled, commisserated, and lent a shoulder. Those victims who were close to me, I had tried my best to be supportive, whilst not quite understanding why anyone with a rational mind (and those who are close to me would be equipped with that) would willingly succumb to its siren calls.

One day not so long ago, staring into the flames, I took a closer look. I thought I saw a shadow. I thought i saw something interesting. It piqued my interest. I threw caution to the wind and stretched out my hand.

Why aren't we endowed with a force field to protect us from the rougher elements in life? From temptation? From ourselves, in fact? Will we ever learn? That fire produces heat, and too much heat burns?