The formation of beliefs and making decisions according to what might be pleasing to imagine instead of by appealing to evidence, rationality, or reality
Ended a rough day of work. I proceed to the local coffee shop Im fond of. Its a good thing it runs 24 hours straight. I walk into the shop, judging by the time of the night there’s still a handful of customers adding to the fact that its a week night. I couldnt care more. I was swamped earlier that day and I had to relieve stress. My condo was an hour drive from where I was so I needed a nearby place to blow off steam.
I ordered a double shot and waited on a recently vacated table in the corner. It was a great spot, I could see people entering without them seeing or noticing me first. I watched as customers come and go. I opened my phone and began my rant.
I went through a blog post featuring a handful of hot male models currently in the country, which made me uneasy… my list of worldly frustrations just got lengthier.
The world out there is full of gorgeous people, many are blessed but only a few are given the opportunity to bring it to the limelight. I scroll down the list and see two of my major crushes one is a DJ/Model from Australia now based in the Philippines and One is from Brazil who models for the country-renowned mall.
These two has been the wallpaper of my phone for almost a year or 2. I always look at him before I sleep, thinking of how great my life would be if we would actually be dating, how fun outings would be, or how less aggravating my mondays would be if I see his face next to my pillow… his face as ugly as a mule’s butt.
This someone that I could acknowledge as a lover, with my own definition of love and sweetness – the frequent fights and insults that end up in cuddling and making out or possibly more…
Anyway, I dreamt of him, the DJ. He actually visited me, we werent ‘labeled’ yet but he fitted my ideals.
I told him: “Lets be sweet to each other, first one to fall in love, loses”
he replied: “You already lost. You already fell in love with me”
I felt the slightest blush, trying to suppress a very wide smile from swooning, I said: “Okay then, change of rules, first one to say I LOVE YOU, loses, and you know what the winner gets…”
With no further words, we made a deal. I cant recall further what happened in the dream, all I remember is, I let him go. I let him leave because I was a tad busy doing something. I went home afterwards, I step on the staircase and hear loud music emanating from my room. I hurriedly ran up the stairs, and to my surprise… he was there. He didnt leave me. Suppressing a smile again, I lounged in bed with him. With no words, He fell asleep beside me.
I wake up.
The euphoria slowly dissipating from my mind, I still feel ecstatic and sent me a wave of hope that someday, we might, we could, we could belong together…
I was in a stance when the waiter served my espresso. I cant help but realize, I live on wishful thinking. Wishful thinking – The formation of beliefs and making decisions according to what might be pleasing to imagine instead of by appealing to evidence, rationality, or reality.
Reality is a bitter place. It vanquishes any non-existent happiness I already made. The castle of make-believe that gave me an illusion of happiness would be wrecked by this so called reality. But I cant risk the condition of my thinking. Im a practical person and Im heavily biased by evidence, tangibility and proof. Im in a divergent battle between my two mental states. If I dwell in reality, Im a sad, but I affirm myself I have a sound mind. If I dwell in wishful thinking, I am happy, empty happiness, but its all I want and hard to let go for it has the slightest hope that maybe, it will come true. I have strong faith so I cant be bothered.
I cant let go of something that makes me happy, but it might hurt me more in the end, but its the only thing I want, the only thing that made me happy. Its like Im feeding on sweet nothings.
According to Christopher Booker he described Wishful thinking as:
“the fantasy cycle” … a pattern that recurs in personal lives, in politics, in history – and in storytelling. When we embark on a course of action which is unconsciously driven by wishful thinking, all may seem to go well for a time, in what may be called the “dream stage”. But because this make-believe can never be reconciled with reality, it leads to a “frustration stage” as things start to go wrong, prompting a more determined effort to keep the fantasy in being. As reality presses in, it leads to a “nightmare stage” as everything goes wrong, culminating in an “explosion into reality”, when the fantasy finally falls apart.“the fantasy cycle” … a pattern that recurs in personal lives, in politics, in history – and in storytelling. When we embark on a course of action which is unconsciously driven by wishful thinking, all may seem to go well for a time, in what may be called the “dream stage”. But because this make-believe can never be reconciled with reality, it leads to a “frustration stage” as things start to go wrong, prompting a more determined effort to keep the fantasy in being. As reality presses in, it leads to a “nightmare stage” as everything goes wrong, culminating in an “explosion into reality”, when the fantasy finally falls apart.
so this wishful thinking is like a sweet poison that I cant get enough of, which will soon be the end of me. But, sad to say, Im so attached. I wont acknowledge this as wishful thinking, but as faith. I believe. and it wont hurt me. I have waited far too long, and I know Im not ripe. Time will indeed come. Im just here ranting in full immaturity.
Rest assured, Ill find him, and be with him. Although not these two, but at least someone fitting of my ideals.
The last sip of coffee is invigorating. The thought that lingers in my mind weighs my eyes down and I almost drifted into a nap. With a deep breath, I stood up and wave off the trance Im in. Reality tunes in.
Although I am tangibly living in reality. My heart aspires of what is best for me, and he’s doing his job.
I jump in the car and turned on the stereo. The sweetest melody of the Saxophone version of Can You Feel The Love Tonight plays.
I burst into tears and loud sobs. I close the door and strike the vacated seat next to me. The melody is sweet but its killing me softly.
This sonata is too romantic.
Too romantic that I have no one to share it with.