Is wanting what you can’t have foolish or brave? I’ve always told myself that it was foolish, self-destructive, but I’m starting to think that it might not be. There is no accomplishment without desire. You have to want more in order to pursue more. But what if what you want to pursue is really, truly impossible? Not “flying” impossible but “kissing the surface of the moon” impossible. What then?
When I was younger, I learned to only ask for what I knew I could get. That included things—not time, attention, or affection, only physical objects. This morphed into me teaching myself to only want things, and more specifically to only want things that fell within the specific price range that was considered reasonable. Of course, this was essentially a long con that I played with myself as the target, using a continuous pattern of lies and manipulation to obtain… what, exactly? What was the payout that I sought? I’m not entirely sure, but I think it was some sort of pain alleviation, either in the form of somehow having the unspoken wants (which were actually needs) satisfied, or by having the desperate lie somehow turn into the truth so that the quiet, aching truth would finally disappear. “You want this thing,” was the false belief that I forced onto myself when I really wanted so much more.
I realize now that what I really wanted wasn’t truly impossible. It was just too narrow. I’m realizing that expanding it from “I want this person to care about me and that person to spend time with me” to “I want someone to care about me and someone to spend time with” is the difference between impossible and possible. But what about things, like the friendship of a certain person, that are by nature more specific? Honestly, I’m not the best judge. I still can’t tell the difference. If it’s not something I can walk to with my own legs or make with my own hands, it feels out of reach. And, most importantly, if it involves other people, it feels practically impossible. Even though I technically know that it isn’t.
So I’ve decided that there are basically two choices. (Three, I guess, if you count living in a state of perpetual uncertainty and endless frustration. Which I don’t.) I can either believe that everything I believe to be impossible actually is or that nothing I believe to be impossible actually is. All or nothing. The second one, still holding onto desire even when the object feels too far out of reach, is the bravest choice. The question is: will I be brave enough to make it?
Burning and Rising 