I have come to the realization today that I still haven’t figured myself out. I hunger not, in honesty, for material wealth. Though I’d love to have more money, it’s not what I truly want. I hunger for things that are not real, for flights of fantasy and my imaginings. For alternate lives, made-up realities. My wants are not grounded in this life, or perhaps not even in the next.
I find myself wanting most the things that could not be in this world. I want magic and flying and all the things I read about, I want to be with people that have never existed, I want to live in a place unlike this reality.
I want to walk in moonlit woods, feeling the wolf I have bonded with pounce his prey.
I want to spy for the king while I dance with the lesser nobility, wearing a glittering gown.
I want to stand to attention on a well-scrubbed deck, swaying as I slowly gain my sea-legs.
I won’t bore you with a million more examples, but I’ve secretly hungered for this all of my life. Maybe all of these alternate realities in my mind are what pushed me to start writing- creating stories isn’t difficult when you have multitudes of lives happening in your head.
If I force myself to think of things I want in relation to this life, however, my want is very simple. I only want people to love me, to appreciate my good qualities and love me despite the bad. This, unlike my complex imaginings, is very plain. But I still hunger for that as badly as I want things that could never be. Often I will find myself with a deep need to get approval from certain people in my life, similar to a young child or a puppy who looks for attention. I can easily find myself in situations where I would do anything for a simple nod or a smile. Obviously, this want is more a weakness than a strength of mine, and I do my best to hide it. I know that these people I want to impress do not think like me, and do not think much of giving their attention to me. The fact that I am willing to do something for this ‘nothing’ makes it very dangerous.
But I can’t help it. I seek affection almost endlessly, though I am careful to hide this as much as I can. Don’t worry too much, readers, I’m not likely to change myself to seek approval- I want people to like /me/, not some fabrication. I’m over that hurdle- in the past I have lied in order to gain attention. I have learned hard lessons in regards to that, and the idea repulses me these days. Even though my lying habit has been killed, my hunger for affection and love remains. Yes, affection and love are different in my eyes. Affection is something you show to something that currently has your favour- a student that scores well in a test because of your training, a pet that sits obediently at your feet, a child that has amused you unknowingly with an innocent comment. It runs no deeper than that interaction, and can quickly be turned aside by some new fancy. Love is different, we all have different definitions of it but by no means is it what I consider ‘affection’.
So perhaps, even though I can’t get those things my imagination desires the most (despite the fact that I won’t let go of my dreams yet), maybe I can find more affection in this world for me. Maybe even love, if I try hard enough.
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