porter_inc | Topic 160. What song best describes your life?

When I turned six, my mother took me to see Pinocchio as a special birthday treat. It was my very first trip to see a movie in the theater, and because Dad had to work, it was just me and Mom. That alone made it the best birthday present I could have been given. I remember that I loved everything about it, I remember holding my Mom's hand when Pinocchio was turned into a donkey, and I remember carefully listening to a song Jiminey Cricket sang, wondering if it really was possible to wish upon a star.

After that movie, I began making a lot of wishes. Truth be told, I wasn't quite sure of the difference between wishing and praying, so I would make my wishes to God, just to be safe. I would wish for a different father, or at least a father who wouldn't hurt my mom and yell so much. I would wish for a baby brother or sister so I could have someone to take care of and look out for. Then I would wish to take that back because I didn't want someone else I loved being subjected to my dad. Other wishes were trivial, ever changing as I grew older. I'd wish for everything from Hot Wheels and a bike to a stereo or a date to the Spring formal. I would wish to grow out of my awkward, geeky stage so school would be more bearable. I'd wish desperately to be as cool as my best friend, or for him to at least be more like me so his friends would stop asking him why he wanted to hang around a loser all the time. I used to stupidly wish to be the man my father wanted me to be, never stopping to think that perhaps the man I was supposed to be was exactly what he feared the most.

The day I turned 18 and allegedly became an adult, I chose to put such juvenile things as wishes behind me, once and for all. Nothing would be magically given to me just because I wanted it badly enough. Nothing ever was. Anything I desired would have to be earned through my own efforts. I threw myself into school, eventually earning my Bachelor's and Master's degrees. I took a job my father arranged for me to have, but I earned my promotions based on my own merits. I climbed the ladder and became a success in a career I never wanted but still gave my all. While I had never really wanted to be a husband, circumstances in my life led me down that path, and I did the best job I could at that, too, reaping the rewards of being a good husband to my wife. I earned the comfortable life I found myself living. It wasn't until I blithely discarded it to selfishly pursue wants I'd kept long buried that I realized I shouldn't have given up on those wishes. My childish wish to find out who I really am had actually come true.

A few nights before I was to leave for Seattle, I was lying next to Peter, wide awake. My mind wouldn't turn off and I couldn't sleep. By that time, I had told Pete I didn't want to be in a "real" relationship with him because we were better as friends. But deep down, I knew that I wanted someone in my life I could love with all my heart, a different love than what I felt for Peter, and I needed to be free to do that. I left Peter sleeping in his bed and went to the window. It was such a clear night, and the stars seemed unusually bright. That was when I started thinking about that damn cricket again. Just then, I happened to catch a falling star streaking across the sky, so I closed my eyes and made a wish that I would one day find a happy ending with my very own prince charming. It seemed so silly at the time, I laughed at myself and went back to bed. That was August of 2005.

In March, having forgotten for a while that I had ever made that wish, circumstances led me to a wonderful, sweet, misunderstood man. We spoke briefly, but I hadn't wanted to bother him while he was so busy with his life and his family. In August, when we started talking again, I had no idea that he'd just lost his wife and child. Once I found out, I wanted to be there for him as a friend if he'd let me. I wanted to talk to him whenever I could and comfort him if I was able. He was so vulnerable and lost, mourning a loss I couldn't begin to imagine. But even in the midst of his own grief, he was so kind and concerned about the troubles I was having in my personal life. He was unselfish at a time when most people could be understandably consumed with themselves to the point of pushing everyone else away. I tried incredibly hard to bury the feelings I started having for him, knowing we were both unavailable, knowing he wasn't interested in pursuing a relationship with anyone. My head continually chastised me for becoming so fond of him, for feeling more attached to him with every conversation we had. My heart had other ideas, though. About a month later, we finally met face to face, and I knew I was fighting a losing battle. Everything pointed to the fact that we shouldn't be together, but eventually, we both fell so hard and so fast for one another, it felt as natural as breathing. In December, I proposed and he said yes.

Sometimes I think he wonders why I'm so sure that I'm always going to love him. Now, I can tell him:

It's simple, sweetheart. I wished for you.

When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you
If your heart is in your dream
No request is too extreme
When you wish upon a star
As dreamers do
Fate is kind
She brings to those to love
The sweet fulfillment of
Their secret longing
Like a bolt out of the blue
Fate steps in and sees you through
When you wish upon a star
Your dreams come true

Topic 160. What song best describes your life?

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