After procuring this candle, it took me one week before I tore the plastic wrapping off the box, and another before I took the candle out of its cardboard house and placed it by my bedside. Part of it was because I didn't want to mar the smooth pink surface and dirty the pristine white wick, but another part of me was like, Seriously? You spent $65 on scented wax?
I have finally lit the candle, and perhaps due to overblown expectations, I was not impressed by Diptyque Rosa Mundi. Once during a sample sale, I managed to snag a mini trio that consisted of Opopanax, Feu de Bois, and Oliban. When I burned those, the fragrance filled my entire room, while Rosamundi barely hits my nostrils a few feet away. When I do smell her, it's a pleasantly sweet, powdery rose.
But on days like today, after a loooong day at work, I look at the candles by my bedside – and this may be a little silly, because they are just candles, but each one holds a different meaning to me – and I'm glad I'm able to light this pretty little candle after all. Sometimes we do things that don't make sense because they make us happy, right?