Be Careful What You Wish For

When I was younger I wished for a lot of things. I wished and I dreamt all the time. The lines of reality blur themselves when you can’t separate your dreams from your life. That ability to see things somewhat distorted may be a trait of the woman in my family; who to say the least are a tad eccentric. When I was a girl my nanny would tell me ghost stories from Yugoslavia, with gypsies, love, murder, curses, and revenge. She’d talk about how you should never live in a house with odd number addresses. She’d watch me rub my fingers over ivory carved earring with pictures of sailors and speak of the man that hung him self in the barn of their upstate New York home. I’d dig through trunks full of antiques and old photos…always stopping to read the names and dates on the back. My favorite activity consisted of standing outside under a full moon with a pocket book open and the moon light shining on lotto tickets. Yes my Nanny believed that the moon light was going to give her and those tickets the luck to win big. There was a house she had always dreamed of living in…in some rural town in Ohio. A mansion with a guest house, stables, and a long driveway where depression era black Fords came and went carrying some rich family dressed in beautiful clothes. People who got more than one pair of shoes a year and didn’t have to share a bed with 3 sisters. I don’t believe she’s ever won more than a few hundred dollars in her lifetime of lotto playing. I also doubt she’ll ever be a part of the home she dreamed of. But it didn’t stop her. Not all miracles happen over night. And not all luck is the kind you expect. Even as I grew into a young adult I continued my wishing; sometimes for the material…and sometimes for the magical. For my twentieth birthday my biggest wish was for the restoration of my hope in PC. A royal fuck up he had been for me recently. We fought more like the married couple (who should have waited) than friends. A few weeks before my birthday things took a turn for the worse. He suddenly stopped calling…and more saddening for me is when he stopped answering. I became increasingly worried that something was wrong. I’ll admit I pried. I questioned. And I damn near begged for answers. “What’s wrong? Where have you been lately? You look different. You look at me different. No you’re not fine. You’re hiding something. Why can’t you look me in the eye and say that? Who are you right now? I’m Sharon remember? I’m your best friend. If it wasn’t for me right now you’d have no friends. Oh you don’t need anyone, that’s right. You’re a wall. You’re a fortress built of glass and I see right through everything you pretend to be. God damn, out of everyone in the universe to confide in you can trust me. Fine then. I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want. But remember when you said you wouldn’t throw me away like everyone has. Remember when I told you I couldn’t stand to be disposable. I did everything I could do to care for you and be the most positive light in your life and all I asked in return for was the truth. You’re a fucking coward and I hate you for doing this. I hate who you’re being. And I miss who you were.” We didn’t talk for a while. I tried my best to stay out of his way. But it was a story that was always at the tip of my tongue. I was angry and I felt jilted for reasons not explained to me. So a typical feeling for me to have was guilt. I somehow blamed myself. I had done something but I didn’t know what it was that pushed him away. It was a quiet sadness that took up my life. And it was around the time I stopped being able to look any male in the eyes for more than a few seconds. I couldn’t hold my focus. I couldn’t control my emotions. And I couldn’t stop thinking about what it was that caused this tragedy in what had been such a beautiful summer thus far.