I wish.

may not make sense to you but I hope you enjoy :)

I wish… I wish… I wish…

A man sits in front of me solemnly waiting for our session to begin. We’re surrounded by a series of machines, some big and others small. They creak and make questionable sounds when moved. On occasion, the tools in this room sound scorchingly tormented. The man in front of me wears a navy blue suit with minimal color on display. We share the same birthday. We both have a deep love for the sea and I can tell our souls have both faced excruciating journeys to get here.

Our session is now over and the man has left the room. But, here I remain- unable to move. I’ve had many moments like these. I’ve faced the horror many a time. Why can’t I move? Why won’t I move? I pick at the the pieces in the room. I pull out the cabinets, chairs, and pens. I scribble on every inch of the walls in this room. Marks in every corner of this space taunting the current limitation of my movements. It must be the gravity weighing me down. It must be the pressure of my thoughts burdening my limbs. Slowly, I slump to the floor, no longer able to fight back. Faintly, sleep creeps up on me and I give in.

Off I go to a world where you and I exist. Why do we exist? We were never meant to be. Your arm around my waist and mine around yours. In these dreams, these fantasies, and these visions- it never goes beyond a deep stare and a holding of each other. Could it be because I’m craving touch? why do I crave touch? Perhaps, because that is the human way of acknowledging one another’s existence. The only way of affirming that neither one of us is hallucinating reality. Except, this isn’t reality, is it? I’m in a dream…

I wake up. The man in the navy blue suit. We share the same birthday and have a mutual interest in the sea. I gently tap my cheeks and splash water on my face to wake up. I hear my heart whisper “I wish… I wish… I wish…” What do I wish for, my heart? what am I longing for?

I wish to get out of this room. I wish to use the grass as ink and the clouds as paper instead of men-made material. I wish to be by the sea in a big white home of my own. I wish to put my feet in the water and look back to find meaning in this.