Icarus was a foolish man. He was told not to hover near the sun. He did, and he died.
We all are Icarus at one point in our lives. Our head says no but our heart says go. We lived and loved blindly, foolishly.
I had my time. He had his, too. Together, unknowingly, we flew too close to the sun. I might have made sure not to put wax on my wings, but I flew too close for my own passion to burn me down.
I might have fallen, but like a phoenix rising from the ashes, each scar would be a reminder for me to take caution…to take shelter if I have to…to fly once again.
The sun was a temptress. She was too perfect for mortals, yet humans wanted to see the beauty up close and personal. We are not contented creatures. Nothing is ever enough for us.
At one point, we are all the sun. At one point, he or she was the sun. Too perfect, too pure for us. We know we can get to the sun but sometimes we do not have the willpower to work for what we want. We fall, like Icarus.
At some point, we reach the sun. We become so engrossed by the beauty it shows us. We become so obsessed with it, we try to make it our own. I tried to make things my own since I work for what I wanted, despite all the red flags telling me to stop or back down. I was so into the sun. I was so into the love I created. Unconsciously, the sun’s tongues of fire are already consuming me. It did hurt, but I deserved to burn in my own passion and desperation that never ceases to die, like the sun.
Like everyone else, Icarus taught us not to be foolish like him, Like everyone else, the sun taught us that passion can grow to obsession and it’ll be the last of us.