I want everything and nothing at the same time – this is why I’ll never be satisfied with my life.
I want a home and a love and a warm fire and a slow cooker and a bread maker and a crepe machine and an apron that says “Kiss the Cook.”
I want a suitcase and a backpack. I want to send my mail to a PO Box because I haven’t had an address in five years. I want to watch the sunrise in Bangladesh and watch the sunset in Ko Phi Phi. I want lessons in Thai street fighting and French cuisine. I want to speak five languages and fill up a passport with stamps.
I want a steady boyfriend who I might one day marry. I want to be half of a whole and to make other people envious of the love I bring to my life. I want a group of friends I see daily, weekly, every day and all the time. I want to fill my life with companionship until it bursts at the seams.
I want a lover in every major city. I want a boyfriend in every port. I want stolen kisses under the Eiffel Tower on Monday and whispered goodbyes in Athens by Thursday. I want to swim in the silence and dive into a sea of loneliness. I want to pitch a tent with Depression and fill myself up with sadness until I go numb. I want to make friends in hostels and get emails from around the world, reminding me of the places I’ve yet to go.
I want a hand to hold and to have a date night once a week and a warm body in my bed to turn over and kiss at four in the morning just because I can.
I want adventure and risk and danger. I want independence and freedom and to be able to work 9 to 5 and love as I please from 5 to 9. I want to be able to leave without guilt, and to know in my heart that they’re better off without me.
I want a steady job and a promising career with a well-padded CV and a job history to slay my competition. I want to wear power-suits and sling-back heels and use words in boardrooms like “third-quarterly review” and “steady rate of incline in the work force.” I want to have to worry about insurance and mortgages and finding a home within a good school district.
I want to rip up my resume and quit my job. I want to flip-off the economy and sell all my belongings. I want to represent a serious flaw in the system. I want to work in-the-black and do manual labour until I’m sweaty and exhausted and drink beer I can barely afford on secluded beaches that most people will never see in their lifetime.
When people ask me how I do it I’ll tell them, “I wanted to, so I did.”