The conversation seemed to oscillate, just like they did over the phone, the other night. My patience stretched thin, and my exhaustion only overpowered by a simple desire of presence and closeness. She blurts out,
"I saw a shooting star last night"
"Great, did you make a wish?" I struggled for anything original in response to the statement. I don't see many stars. My yes-no conversation ending question became the point of controversy.
"No. I don't believe in wishing."
"You don't believe in wishing? How can you not believe in wishing?"
"I think it is ridiculous to imagine that by hoping something happens when a star streaks through the sky that it will actually happen."
My eyebrows furrowed. I wanted to claim the ability to be irrational and be able to wish, knowing fully well that neither the star, nor your thoughts would make a difference. But can't we have ideals? Can't we have moments of strong desire that would allow us to hope for a different world or a different day?
I was defeated. I couldn't muscle a contradiction worth fighting about.
"How sad you don't wish for anything."
And that was the beginning of the end that evening.
