Wishes are lies

<b>Oct. 23 | 1:30 pm | 53 days before the deadline</b>

A week had happened since the project was assigned, no pair had done any progress, Jack and Sophie had been going each day to the café to talk and get to know each other. The conversations they had could be deep sometimes, but they were banal most of the time. They were having fun meeting a friend that they would have to work with to create a double part essay about love, or the love that "The Bastard Writer" portrayed in the book.

Jack knew Sophie's schedule a little bit too well, so he was waiting for her at the main door; he had just arrived from his home. On Tuesdays he had one class only, Sophie had a lot. When she stepped out, they began walking towards the café almost in instinct. A week was a lot of time for them. They had trust; they had inside jokes; they had a good friendship.

—Jacky! Why? You had the opportunity of adopting a stray cat! Why did you let the cat go?

—Maybe nobody would have been able to take care of them. —he said these words while he took a seat to begin the daily conversation.

—I've always wanted a cat, and you had the opportunity of having one, and you let it go. It's sad.

—You have a lot of incomplete wishes.

—I have not, —she said, taking her wish notebook out. —I only have 34 or something, and most of them are silly wishes. How many wishes do you have?

—Three, I think so.

—Three? How can you have such a dull life, with no wishes? Many say that dreams are a desire without an attempt. I can assure you, wishing is how a soul finds a will to fight. When the French Resistance took the Eifel Tower, they wished to see France free of the Germans. The Spaniards that came to the Americas wished to find a more comfortable life, but the explorers wished to have their names written in the history books. Wishes are what set the foundations of our future.

Her eyes were glowing and twinkled with every word she said. She was full of optimism and faith. She needed no god to come and tell her the truth as she spoke from her heart. You could see in those powerful eyes the energy of the soil, she was full of energy, and her eyes were proof. Even though Jack did not believe most of what she said, he was caught by the speech. He could not give any reason why he didn't wish that seemed deep enough to even compete with the energy Sophie expressed. But even with that in mind, he began talking.

—Wishes are lies. We wish for everything to be better, but we are mostly alone. We cry for help to reach out to us from the heavens, while we are going through hell. We are caged and wish for freedom. We could die any day. And we will die with wishes to be accomplished. We release our fears through wishes even though that will only create high hopes that when destroyed, we are left with an empty soul, a broken heart, and a panicking brain.

—You say that as if having feelings is something we should be ashamed of, or that we should avoid being sad.

—I mean, we should avoid being sad. Being sad sucks.

—No, it doesn't. What sucks is that you can't release yourself. But have you never broken anything while sad or cried until you had no more tears, and you felt cleansed? Deny your feelings all you want. Avoid sadness all you want. But then what? Do you want to have sunshine every morning? A rainbow every other day? A musical happening in your life? Do you want to sing now? You want to avoid sadness, yet you are filled with repetition and frustration. Are—

—Shut the fuck up. —Jack snapped after those last words. Sophie was surprised as she had never seen Jack act that way, not that she knew him a lot. You could see in her face that she was sorry. —You say this from your high standard life. You say these words, and yet you are not able to see beyond your own face. Your own world. Do you want to know why the fuck I have no wishes? No expectations? Do you want to know why the fuck I avoid sadness?

—Jacky, I didn't want to do you this

—Yet you did. The last time I had a life full of wishes, my dad died. My mother had to work full time, and I was a 4-year-old living alone most of the time. My wishes at that age were, "I wish my dad were here." I avoid sadness because during my early childhood if I was sad, my dad would come to my room, hug me, and gave some ice cream. Since then, I don't want to feel sad because nobody will come to hug me anymore. Nobody will give me sweets to calm me down. I have nothing but reality. I can't allow myself to wish anything. Wishes are the foundations of lies.

—Jacky, I'm so sorry, I didn't know that you felt that way. I'm so stupid. I'm sorry. I can hug you if you want. I can give you sweets. We can eat ice cream together whenever you feel sad. I am your friend.

—I need to go, sorry.

Jack left the place in a rush. His face had turned red from the argument they had. He felt mad at himself for yelling at Sophie. She was just trying to be optimistic. It was not the best way of being optimistic, but she was trying. The thought of having ruined another friendship chased Jack. His pace was rushed as if he was trying to escape something. He had been that asshole to Sophie, and that was not the thing that bothered him the most. He opened his phone just to see at least 10 "I'm sorry" messages from Sophie. He knew she was sorry, but she opened some insecurities, and he didn't know if he wanted to keep them open when he was with her. And he was too tired to even try to figure it out. He took a nap when he got home, trying to forget everything and settle things down in his head. It didn't work.