Making Wishes

It started off fun, if not a little ridiculous. He called me sexy, and I called him sugar. There was flirting, but mostly it was harmless. He's on the other side of the world, with an almost fiancée, and a house and all those things that keep you rooted in one place. Despite all his bravado, he's not the type to cut ties and move over here on a whim. Not like I did. Instead he's about daydreaming, and reminiscing and talking about grass-is-greener hopes and wishes. I wish he'd stop adding me to the list of wishes. We had the chance to pick each other, once. We laugh about it every now and then, but in the end he picked his roots and hunkered down back home, and I choose to take a leap and have been travelling ever since. This is not a premise for some epic love story (there's that almost fiancée, remember) but rather it's something that happened, was quickly forgotten, and remembered only in this weird time-zone different gtalk conversations that happen late at night for him, and mid morning while I'm at work here.

I'm not sure why boys from the past keep coming out of the woodwork. Am I really that girl the boys from long ago wistfully wonder about? Seems a bit ridiculous, really. But if we're speaking about wishes, here is what I wish for him: I wish he'd either come to peace with the decisions he's made, or be brave and make new decisions that suit him better. I wish he'd stop bringing up with the past like it's this amazing sparkling event he wasn't sure about, rather than the everyday ordinary it was. I wish he'd stop talking to me like I was the fish that got away, and acknowledged the friend I could be. I wish he was content and satisfied with his life, rather than wishing for the greener grass. I wish for him to see that what he has got, with this amazing almost fiancée and his house and all these trips to far off places are brilliant. His life is brilliant.

We'll see. Maybe he'll open his eyes and understand that wishes are a dime a dozen, and that his reality is worth more than that. Fingers crossed, right?