But this time, I recall sitting on the floor, leaning against my bed, and turning just a bit to see that the clock had just clicked into position at 11.11. And I looked at it and realized, there was a time I eagerly used to close my eyes and make a wish.
Silly thing to do. I know it. There is that little girl in me, always, that seeks to remain in a fairy world, where Cinderella sang about dreams and wishes and waited for her prince charming. Silly. But regardless, when one was in a position to make a wish and lose nothing from the act, I took the opportunity and made the wish.
At the moment when I saw the green numbers aligning with perfect parallels, I suddenly lost a sense of realism and found myself falling into different parallels of time. Why had I stopped wishing at 11.11?
One might induce from operant conditioning that it was a case of extinction. But no, not that the wishes never came true. If one was a confidante of the heart one might learn that they came true, of a sort. Rather this would be positively reinforcing the act of making the wish, because they came true.
Was this a case of taking things for granted? I would hope not. Perhaps it was that when the clock was set at 11.11, I was preoccupied with an act that negated my ability to perceive that the clock was at 11.11.
Maybe, I 've begun to expect (and therefore wish for) too much. My wishes have gone from simple requests to wishes, stemming from deepest fears, that someone would do this or someone would do that. And perhaps, by the wishes having stopped coming true in that light, that's the actual behavioural extinction. By them never coming true, I've given up.
What happened to the wishes made at 11.11, on the many shooting stars, on the birthday candles that were so rare? Perhaps I've really grown up? Or do I only grow up when I stop thinking about silly wishes and hopes entirely?
