By: Jenni Taylor

Let’s play the I want game.

Okay, he said.
I want to reach the stars and feel them glow in my hand. I want to blow through my window curtains like the wind and separate into tiny particles all over the world.
Want me to throw your dust out the window after you die? he said.
I guess that’s the closest I’ll get.

Let’s play the I want game.
Fine, he said.
I want to be bigger than the earth. I want to see the tiny specks of people from where I am, floating above them, and to see the puzzle pieces of their lives laid out in a beautiful, sad picture. I want to float and be big, so big, big enough to hug the universe.
And who will hug you? he said.
You’ll have to be there with me, and be a little bit bigger than I am.

Let’s play the I want game.
Alright, he said.
I want everyone to be happy. I want people to stop being cruel to each other. I want the meanness to be sucked right out of the bullies in every playground and government office. I want children to smile and grandmas to sit in nice rocking chairs. I want tears to go away forever and ever.
I know, he said.

Let’s play the I want game, he said.
Okay.
I want all the sad things in this world to make you cry, cry so hard your tears water your own roots and make you grow, grow, grow- bigger than the universe. I want those tears to make you hug the world the way you want to. I want those tears to make you hold the stars with wonder and give hugs the size of time. And when you get that big, your smile will grow so bright it will light up the milky way.

Really? I said.
Yes.
Okay. Hug me.