Mis tres patitos pasados por agua

Estando en El Calafate de vacaciones (historia que les contaré en otro momento), en líneas generales, me la pasé leyendo.

Empecé con Boquitas Pintadas, seguí con Patas Arriba, pasé por Un Mundo Feliz y me deleité con Como Agua para Chocolate (en inglés). Al final de todo esto empecé con Chasing Che (un libro escrito por un yankee mala onda que habla de cómo Ernesto Guevara se convirtió en El "Che").

Pero en este momento lo que quiero compartir es algo que leí en Como Agua para Chocolate y me parece, se relaciona completamente con el momento por el que estoy pasando...

"... each of us is born with a box of matches inside us but we can't strike them all by ourselves; just as in the experiment, we need oxygen and a candle to help.

In this case, the oxygen, for example, would come from the breath of the person you love; the candle colud be any kind of food, music, caress, word or sound that engenders the explosion that lights one of the matches. For a moment we are dazzled by an intense emotion. A pleasant warmth grows within us, fading slowly as time goes by, until a new explosion comes along to revive it. Each person has to discover what will set off those explosions in order to live, since the combustion that occurs when one of them is ignited is what nourishes the soul. That fire, in short, is its food. If one doesen't find out in time what will set off these explosions the box of matches dampers, and not a single match will ever be lighted.

If that happens, the soul flees from the body and goes to wander among the deepest shades, trying in vain to find food to nourish itself, unaware that only the body it left behind, cold and defenseless is capable of providing that food..."

Frente a esta teoría me encontré recordando esas cosas que encendían mis fósforos y preguntándome si alguna vez volverán a encenderse y avanzada un poco más la lectura me encontré con la respuesta: "There are many ways to dry out a box of damp matches, but you can be sure, there is a cure".