I want my father to come back to life. I want to ask him some questions.
I want to ask him about all the stories of his life he either chose not to share with me or just forgot.
I want to read him the poem I wrote about the watch he left me. The same watch I still wear even though it no longer tells time.
I want to tell my children about the adventures with my father in Santa Monica.
I want to know his last thought before leaving himself.
I want to know about the hardness of his life growing up.
I want you to listen to me.
I want to be remembered as a good man.
I want to be remembered as an inspiring writer, an unsuccessful yet ambitious writer who attempted the art besides all odds.
I want my faith to bring me even more hope. I want hope not to come on the same platter as pain or loss.
I want my friends and family to be proud of me.
I want my wife to live as happily as life makes it possible while married to me.
I want my kids to take on their father, yet have their grand-father’s wisdom.
I want, badly, for you to love me.
I want to learn to be a better cook. I want to perfect my French. I want to learn the history of every civilization.
I want to look back on my life and remember good nights like tonight, when I wrote this poem because life is presently good.
I want to read more books than hours spent on insignificant past times. TV truly rots the mind and soul.
I want to stop looking down at my phone when so many people with interesting lives are walking by me, wondering what my story is.
I want to enjoy my friends and not make best friends. My true friends are worth keeping and truly the best portions of me.
I want to hug strangers. I want to hug my family with purpose.
I want to open up to you, allow you in. No one has entered here before.
I want to go back to third grade, when no one hurt me nor was anything as difficult as learning to write in cursive.
I want to have recess time and not care about kids said about me.
I want to go back and tell my mother that she was wrong the whole time, you don’t have to make money to be happy.
I want to go back and give every gift I received to a child less fortunate; I got bored of each one.
I want to go back to middle school and not be afraid.
I want to go back to freshman year of college and enjoy each lecture. I want to tell my seventeen year old self my dreams of being a doctor was actually a family dream.
I want to go back to the pool and swim another 500.
I want to go back to Santa Monica with my father and talk to him as if he were my friend.
I want you to know that I love you.
I want to know that you are loving others.
I want to look back at my depression and not see it as a sad time in life. I want my depression to be part of the happy man that I am today. I want to use all of my sadness to be a better writer. I call my muse Sadness.
I want to people to feel encouraged by my actions, not my I love you’s. I want my friends to feel inspired by the life they already have and not the one they dream about everyday.
I want you to enjoy a good cup of coffee or tea and not worry about $5.
I want to travel and learn that I am just a spec of dust in this large and beautiful world.
I want to see beauty in the ugly.
I want to love you.