Nothing but a shadowy figure, I begged her to slow down. Give me a chance. The venom of lactic acid tightened around my thighs, strangling their ability to breathe. It’s pure agony. Sweat drips profusely, mixing with the steady stream coming from my eyes. I can do better.

I’ve been watching her for a long time, or maybe it is more accurate to say she has been watching me. At the ripe age of five, I tumbled onto a thick slab of concrete and she was there, whispering in my ear to be more careful. The first time I got too drunk, she guided me to a toilet, letting me know that I am more than the snarls of peer pressure make me out to be. The first time the evil bitter-sweet powder shot up my nose, her watchful eyes tore into me, ripping apart my soul. She always knew the right path, but I had been too stupid to take it.

I took another breath and pushed even harder. She seemed closer now, maybe even reachable. I bit my lip hard, fighting the venom. A sweet rust flavour seeped onto my tongue, mixing with the briny taste of sweat and tears. Please, just stop.

She began to fade away when the cutting taste of liquor began to be sweet. When my nose began to bleed in the morning. When my phone stopped ringing, a letter from the dean gave me a final warning, and red papers were shoved in the crack of my door frame. I’m still here, she’d say. But you are running out of time.

With a final push, I sprinted. My legs wobbled and my head was full of air. But she stopped. I could make out her details—her legs healthy and full. Her face colourful and light. Her nose wasn’t crusted and her eyes weren’t bloodshot.

You look beautiful, I thought, as I looked in the mirror. Let me try again.

Your words should drip like honey,

I should feel the stickiness on my spine.

Your words should make me shiver,

make my toes curl with delight.

Your words should cut me,

make my stomach twist and churn.

Your words should be more powerful,

then the force of many winds.

Your words should change the world,

with each stroke of your tongue

against your solemn lips.

One syllable at a time.

I'm always hiding

behind some mask.

Moulded as a happy smirk,

Hiding a sad soul.

Hey.

It's been awhile.

I know you don't want to talk to me, and every day I think I am a little bit more okay with that.

I know this decision was hard but in the end your life doesn't have to change and we can still be friends... right?

I like to think that we would be friends. That we would have had things in common, same books and movies.

Trust me, I get it. It was impratical for you to have me in your life. You weren't ready and I understand that. How could you let those in your life down, knowing you'd fucked up. Knowing you'd ruin the life of those around you, just by having me. You probably wouldn't be who or where you are today and I would hate if you resented me for that.

Don't worry. I'm not mad. Just a little...wistful.

I think you would have loved me. I think I would have loved you too.

I'm not writing this to make you feel bad. If I'd been born I'd have been pro-choice too. I guess thing's aren't black and white, and some days I know you wonder.

I wonder too.

Love,

Me.

Wishes are loaded, aren't they?

Maybe it depends who offers you the wish, but it always seems to be that when you get one granted its filled with mischief and lessons to be learned. For example, you wish back the dead. And they do come back, but not the way they were before. They smell, they have no personality and instead of having the living being that you so dearly love back in your life the way they were before... instead you remember them differently. An old, crotchy dying zombie. And then you wasted a wish on that.

So while I would like to believe I could wish back my dear loved ones back to life, it would appear that this is a wasted wish. So wish number one that came to mind, but I decided not to choose. Bringing back the dead.

You could, maybe, circumvent the whole gross living dead thing by going back in time. Knowing that things are different, you can maybe change the future by altering the past. But again, a lesson to be learned. What if this loved one had to die, to make you appreciate those in your life today? What if they didn't die, and you go on living as the little brat you always were, and years past and you don't appreciate it and then, when someone finally does die again... all the time you had spent moving on and growing had been wasted on your continually not appreciating those in your life. Karma? Things meant to be? Happening for a reason? I don't believe in God, but I do believe in fate. And having faith that maybe the world has a tiny bit of reasoning, even if it seems random and it doesn't make any sense, kind of like me. I don't make any sense either, but I'm trying. So second wish that I might want, but don't wish for: time traveling, and changing the present. As much as I miss you, and trust me I adore you, I think it was maybe your time. Maybe it was meant to be.

So what then, would my wish be?

I think I would be able to speak, read,write and understand every language in the world. Imagine the possibilities of knowledge, friends. Imagine understanding everyone just a little bit better.

Plus, you'd be better than everyone else applying to the same job as you. A small perk, but a perk nonetheless.