Step one:
Gather sticks.
Preferably the dry ones, the kind that snap easy.
The kind that remind you some things were always meant to break.
But let’s be honest, you’ve made worse decisions when desperate.

Step two:
Arrange them with the precision of someone who swears they “don’t have control issues.”
(It’s okay, the fire won’t judge. Much.)

Step three:
Strike the match.
Miss the first time — it’s tradition.
Miss again. Embarrass yourself a little.
Success always shows up after.

Step four:
Feed the flame gently.
Don’t smother it — not everything thrives under too much attention.
(You should know, you’ve tested the theory.)

Step five:
Sit back. Watch the fire devour the wood like it’s got an ex to impress.
Admire its commitment to letting go — you could stand to take notes.

Step six:
Let the crackle fill the silence.
There’s no need to speak.
The fire is already telling your story back to you,
one flicker at a time.

Bonus step:
Poke the fire until it sparks back at you,
because sometimes you just need proof that the world still listens
when you push it.