Fiamma

Phobias are such an odd phenomenon, an irrational fear of one particular thing. My particular fear was pyrophobia, a fear of fire. It’s strange; however, I cannot explain why I am so afraid of fire. Throughout my entire life, I have never been burned, but there was something about fire made my blood run cold.

You never really realize how much a phenomenon like fire affects our lives until you have a crippling fear of it. Camping becomes a lot more miserable, mostly because everyone else wants to have a campfire in the evening for the ambiance and to stay warm. Suffice to say, I didn’t get invited to go camping a whole lot. Winter was also not a fantastic time for me socially. A lot of the families where I grew up had wood burning stoves or fireplaces as a secondary or primary method to heat their homes, and since such fixtures are almost always around the front of the house, or some central room, it made going to their houses quite an ordeal.

It is bizarre, I mean… fire has to be our oldest invention or discovery, and yet it is still so commonly used to this day. I couldn’t cook with gas stoves. Middle school science classes and high school chemistry were a nightmare because of Bunsen burners. Birthdays… well they were okay until the cake came out. Things didn’t get much better as I became an adult. Bars were tricky when they’d serve those drinks they light on fire. And it is surprising how much candlelight will often play into the more intimate parts of flirting and screwing. Being terrified of burning candles doesn’t make for the best turn on, so consequently I never had much luck getting past more than a couple of dates.

Then I met Fiamma.

I first saw her in a café near my college campus while I was doing some homework. I’d say I didn’t notice her first, but that would be a lie. I noticed her the moment she came into the café. It wasn’t because she was some unrealistic icon of beauty. She certainly wasn’t that. She was fairly plain as most people go. That isn’t to say she was unattractive, far from it. She was a beautiful young woman but I can honestly say she didn’t have some otherworldly physical quality that people tend to reference in some way when they first meet someone they love. I was just attracted to her.

I also didn’t act on that attraction. The few times I had pursued a romantic interest had not ended up going well for me, so I tended to avoid pursuing them altogether. Apparently she was attracted to me too, and she had no qualms about making the first move.

I was the proverbial deer in the headlights, frozen on the spot. She came up to my little table, said hi, introduced herself, and asked if she could share my table. My mouth was not agape, but it was obvious that I was caught off guard. She laughed this light chortle.

“Come on, you’re not that unattractive,” she giggled at me. “Or could it be,” she gasped. “Am I truly so hideous?” By now I was gaping. “Oh relax, I’m only kidding.” She sat down at the table in the chair opposite mine. “You don’t seem to be telling me to go away, care to tell me your name?”

“Uh…” my brain was still racing to catch up. “N… Nicholas.” I closed my laptop, and one of the most wonderful conversations I’ve ever had commenced. We did not talk about anything particularly earth shattering, but the company I was with made it absolutely wonderful. Time passed and I realized that I was going to be late for my class. I excused myself, and asked Fiamma if I would see her again in the café tomorrow at the same time.

“It’s a date then,” she replied.

Technically I asked her on our first date when we met in the café the next day, but I like to look at it as Fiamma being the only woman to ask me out.

Our first date was pretty relaxed. We went to a Thai restaurant that was just off campus (She ordered the red curry and I had Pad Thai), and then we went on a walk across the University grounds. I felt marvelous, until I realized that we had begun walking into a candlelit vigil. We weren’t deep into the crowd, but we were more or less surrounded on all sides, and as I noticed the little flames all round me, I began to shut down.

“Nick…” Fiamma asked as I started to curl up. “Nicholas, are you okay?”

I don’t know how, but her voice helped to pull me back from my fear a bit.

“I need to get out of here,” my voice was barely audible. “Can you help me get out of here?” She must have heard me, because he took me gently, wrapped her arm over my shoulders once I was standing upright (more or less) and led me away from the vigil. When we were a fair distance from the candles, Fiamma found a bench and helped me sit down.

“Are you okay now Nick?”

“I’m doing better,” I answered, though I’m sure I barely looked it. I could tell by my hands that I had gone white as a sheet, and I was covered in a cold sweat. “Thank you.”

“Hey Nick, what was that about?”

I knew at some point I was going to have to broach this subject. I was just hoping that I’d be able to enjoy the relationship a little longer before this ended it.

“The fire. I’m terrified of fire. Doesn’t matter if it is a burning building or a small candle. I can’t deal with it.” My body sagged with defeat and exhaustion.

“Even those candles?”

I nodded meekly. “Even those candles. But you helped me through it. I’m sorry Fia, and thank you.”

I don’t know what I expected, but I didn’t expect to feel her warm body embrace mine. She didn’t say anything, just wrapped me in her arms and gave me a long hug. “You don’t need to apologize Nick. It’s been a lovely evening, and I really would like to do this again.”

I laughed, a little bit nervously. “Could we do it without the candles?”

She squeezed me a little tighter. “Well, if that’s what you want. How does tomorrow at three sound?”

“It sounds like a date,” I said, returning her hug.

And that is how my wife asked me on our second date.