Dear Johnny,
I have this thing with wishing. I wish on everything from stars to railroad tracks to running yellow lights, but I seem to wish most upon the clock. Every time I see 2:22 or 5:55, I wish, but the prime time for wishing always comes at 11:11. I’m pretty sure all teenage girls know this, so it should show you my mentality in all things romantic which is also misleading because I’m not the “candy and flowers” type. Anyway, I’ve always had this preoccupation with time, so I guess it’s fitting that my wish fulfillment lies almost solely in time’s hands.

And we all have those wishes we always make, right? The things we desire, deep down, even if we’re not the wishing type? Those wishes. The walking by a fountain in Paris wishes, those blowing out the candle on your birthday cake wishes that hide inside our hearts. I think those wishes are the ones that reveal our souls, that uncover those pieces we so wish to hide. And I bet you can guess my secret, inside wish.

It’s funny because you’re supposed to wish for regular things like jobs and money. The point is people are supposed to wish for things, but my wishes are always people. And now you’re asking yourself, “how do you wish for a person?” I don’t know except my wish is always you. I stare at that clock or drive through that yellow light and think, “I wish for Johnny.” It’s a stupid wish, really, because what? Are you going to suddenly materialize on my doorstep, wrapped in paper and topped with a bow? The image is funny, but it’s not happening.

I realized that I could attempt to make my wishes more realistic if I just wished to see you, and then that’s where it snowballed. I started wondering if I had to be more specific, like genie-specific, because a few days after I wished to see you, you posted a video of yourself, the real you, talking, laughing, and it felt like I was finally seeing you after all this time, like my wish came true in a weird way.

My wishing problem has only grown since two have sort of come true. I wished for a job when I didn’t have one, and here I am employed, so now I’m obsessed with wish refinement, as if the specifics of the wish somehow determine the granting. Now, instead of wishing for you, to see you, I wish to see you in person, to be able to talk to you and touch you instead of sitting behind a interrogation room mirror, instead of living vicariously through videos and posts. Now I wish to be with you.

I hope those genies and stars and birthday gods are listening because I’m not about to quit.




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