That Time Of Year Again

I was hoping to last out until November, but already in September I find myself lighting the fire to keep the place warm. But that is only half the dilemna: having gone through the decision-making trauma of whether to light the fire or not, I then have to decide when to let it die. It seems wrong. A lit fire seems to become a life form in its own right - something that I have conjoured into being. What right do I have to extinguish it? This of course sounds ridiculous when I write it down in sober text - but not in the heat of the moment (if you will forgive the pun). I suspect that if I could understand the reason why I find this so difficult, I would understand a lot of other things about myself.
bornexplorer bornexplorer
36-40, M
Sep 21, 2012