Fire eating

My beloved Baby taught me to eat fire one night. I remember his advice, "Don't breathe in." The flaming stick in front of my face was scary. At the last minute I would yank it away from the delicate skin of face. Finally, after several almost and nearly there moments I mustered up the courage I needed to just put the burning rod in my mouth (funny that sounds like another first, but I digress). It didn't burn. I was amazed. All night I practiced until I could light a fire on the tip of my tongue. I felt invincible. My mouth unburned and only a few singed eyelashes to my credit. The next day I ate a baked potato and immediately burned my tongue. So tonight I scalded my tongue on hot chocolate and it made me think about that night and of Baby. He was one of my best friends and I would literally eat fire for him and now we just don't see that much of each other. I feel estranged from him and yet nothing in particular has happened to cause the seperation. Life has just happpened and both of us have moved along onto other paths. And funny I never eat fire anymore either. It is sad and lonely without him along side me to say, "Don't breathe in."