Wishes are curious things. Why do I say that? Well.
Once, I made a wish. I wished for love. I wished for a love so great and so powerful it’d shake me everyday. A love that would get me up at dawn, make me smile all day, and hold me close all the way through dusk to daybreak.
I never found the girl I’m destined to care for, look after, serve breakfast in bed and take out to magical evenings for the rest of my life. I never “Wow”-ed anybody into pulling me by the scarf and into a fantastic world all our own. I never had the chance to sweep somebody off their feet, in new ways every time.
I never got a somebody. I was too busy learning how to string words together so people could be whipped into emotions of joy, sorrow, excitement and the like. I was caught up clutching a camera, capturing the stuff in our crazy corner of the world.
I found no one because I couldn’t be found. I was in the far corner making friends with people you didn’t notice because they weren’t as cool as you. I was in a church in summer, in makeshift classrooms teaching kids who struggled through school. I was in the mountains discovering indigenous peoples’ culture. I was moving a ball at my feet to teammates for a goal. I was reading, listening to music, watching documentaries, dancing to a different beat.
I needed no one because I was surrounded by great friends. I cried over no one person in particular - I had enough people try to take me down to keep me always on my toes, always a few heart palpitations away from stopping cold.
In the end, my life led me someplace far away where I couldn’t be kept. Something else decided to keep me and make better use of me, in ways that stir my heart everyday.
I wish the same thing every New Year, every birthday, every week, every waking hour: I wish for love. A love that tells me my life can be better. The kind that rights the wrongs in your life, the kind that never makes you hope for less.The kind that sets you ablaze with hope. The kind that kick starts all over again, on days hope is stomped out and doused with cold water. The sort that keeps you up at night, and gets you up early at dawn, for the rest of your days.
Wishes are curious things. And this 11-11-11, on a day we’re all told me make a wish, I wish for nothing more, nothing less.
(And if I had another wish? Maybe somebody to share it with too. That would be perfect.)