Whenever
I drive over railroad tracks, I lift up my feet and make a wish. Always. I wish as many times as I can, about
all sorts of things. I figure, the more wishes I make that they have a higher to
come true. There’s a theory behind this, one that I’ve made up and it
works every time. When I make so many wishes, I usually forget most of them.
That’s the key to wish success. You just need to forget about it and when you
least expect it, (suddenly you remember the wish you made a week ago) your
wish has been granted.
Think about all those people who win
the lottery. They go about their usually day and when they stop by at Macs to get
smokes or some milk, they recall having bought a lottery ticket (a weekly
ritual). When you really want something to happen to you in good favor such as
that, don’t you go the rest of the week thinking abut all the things you’d buy
if you won the lottery ticket? Of course if you won, you’d donate some of that
money, or invest it, or doing something good with it. In hopes that the higher
power who grants such wishes will think, “Aw, how self-less. You deserve the
winning.”
Or at least, that’s what I hope
happens when I buy a lottery ticket.
But it’s never really about luck or
a higher power working in your favor when it comes to wishes. It’s about chance
and having good odds, being in the right place or having good memory to
remember having made those wishes. And it’s in that three second moment where I
make as many wishes as I can. I hope the chances of it happening are in good
odds, and the wishes are relevant to happen soon enough where I forget them for
a few days, but still be able to remember them when they come true.
The day before the girl’s trip that
Emily and I had planned, I went out for a drink with some friends since I knew
I’d be too excited to sleep that night. I took the long way to the bar, the way
with two railroad tracks I’d be hitting. I don’t know what made me decide to
take this route, maybe to just have some wishful thinking. Things had been
pretty heavy.
Up until that weekend, I hated
everything and everyone who was happy in a relationship. I didn't understand
why a sleaze ball got to have his too-good-for-him girlfriend and be happy and
yet, me and my Ex couldn't be the happy couple we once were before. Instead, I
got to see all the “look how fucking happy we are” pictures on facebook. I
wished nothing more than their doom.
So yeah, I’d say I was heading the
long way just to make some wishes, to have the best weekend ever.
Flying down Sandwich Street, I hit
the first set of tracks, my feet lifting as the wishes stream across my mind,
and in that brief suspended moment, my heart pumps faster as if I’m on a roller coaster hitting that downward spiral. It was over in seconds, but the
next set was fast approaching. My hands relaxed on the steering wheel, and for
a moment I didn't know what else to wish for, I made all my standard wishes on
the first set.
There was one wish, the longest shot
I could make for the weekend ahead. So hell, what did I have to lose at this
point? I planned to leave by the end of summer anyway, I was finishing school
and I was single, able to do what ever the fuck I wanted. So I made it. And
then forgot about that wish since I thought it would never come true.
-Jessie
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