Owen and Josh take turns pointing out the most bizarre and hilarious post-its to each other, giggling at each one. Elliot is quiet next to me, the odd angles of his hair lit up with the glow of the overhead lights.
‘What you thinking, champ?’
His blue gaze is on me in a flash. ‘Not much,’ he says, his expression a mask.
‘Ready to add your own?’ I nod at the wall.
He looks like he’s trying to hold in a laugh. ‘My own deepest want and desire, you mean? On a post-it note? For hundreds of people to read?’
‘Sure,’ I reply, shrugging a shoulder.
‘We already did a ribbon wish, isn’t this basically the same thing?’
‘I don’t think so,’ I retort. ‘There’s a difference between a wish and a want.’
‘Alright.’ He crosses his arms and regards me with a faint smile. ‘What exactly is the difference?’
‘Well,’ I start, wondering why I suddenly have an opinion on this. ‘From my perspective anyway, a wish is just something you throw out into the ether, something you know is unlikely to happen for you but you can’t help but hope for anyway. A want is something that feels possible. Like a goal that drives you and that you work for. Does that make sense?’
He nods. ‘So a wish is more of a distant dream, but a want is something you’d actually try to pursue. So someone mightwishthey had a Lamborghini butwanta car that doesn’t break down once a week.’
I purse my lips in thought. ‘Yeah, exactly. That makes sense to me.’
He considers this briefly. ‘Respectfully, I think I have to disagree,’ he says. ‘There are plenty of wants in front of us that sound like your so-called “wishes”. I mean, this one for example: “I want to be the greatest shagger in human history.” That’s not realistic.’
‘What? Why are you shitting on this guy’s dreams?’ I reply, outraged. ‘Unrealistic inyoureyes, but they might be taking allthe right steps to execute this. They might have done the greatest shag by now, you don’t know.’
His lips twitch. ‘What I’m saying is that wishes and wants are interchangeable in my view. If you think about the thing that you desperately want the most right now that seems completely impossible – something that you didn’t think could ever happen to you: who’s to say that’s some fantastical wish and not just something you want?’ His voice is smooth and utterly hypnotising.
I gulp. ‘I see your point, I suppose.’
‘Well, that gives you much to think about, then,’ he murmurs before stepping around me to leave.
I’m not letting him go that easily. I whirl round, grabbing his arm with a grin. ‘Come on, don’t be scared of your wants and dreams! Wish for that chicken coop. Wish to do the Grand Prix! You can dig a desire out of that brain of yours.’
He leans closer to me with his own wicked smile. ‘You already got your number one want fired up and ready to go onto a post-it note, princess?’
That makes me pause, and my smile falters.
‘Thought so, you can try me again when you think of one,’ he says, tapping me gently on the temple before walking away, leaving me to furiously direct my thoughts away from how much I’d enjoyed the sensation.
Hennie emerges with a small post-it stack and three pens. I take one of the pens and a post-it from the pile and flick it between my fingers, deliberating on what to write.
In the grand scheme of things, I do realise it won’t fundamentally change anything… but the endless dreams scribbled on the wall cry out to me, mesmerising and unnerving.
There is a collective release in these walls, with these people not being afraid to admit what they had wanted. Perhaps evenadmitting they wanted it enough to commit to the idea. But maybe not enough to say it out loud, I’d venture.
Something screams loudly from my gut. A crystal clear, true answer that has been buried underneath a well-crafted shield. One that I don’t want to admit to myself, even now.
I let my eyes drift across the notes on the wall, letting them fuel me and encourage me to join them in their candour:
I want to care less about what people think about me
I want my dog back
I want to be able to go at least 24 hours without wanting to text my fucking ex
I want to meet someone who understands me
