I tend to  relive events in my mind, over and over.  Either living the scenario out exactly as is, or attempting to change the way things happened.  I’m not quite sure whether this is a good thing or a bad thing.

Why is it that if doing such a thing puts you in a depresive state you’re seen as brooding, but if you arrive in a happy place you’re reminiscing?

I remember my childhood fondly.  There was one Christmas that I remember like it was yesterday.   I had recently been lent an Atari 2600 and a bunch of games, and I had fallen in love with the thing.  When it came time to return it I was very grateful that they had lent it to me, and wasn’t upset at all that I had to give it back.

Why?  Was I an insanely balanced child?  Unfortunately not.  I wasn’t upset because I believed with all my heart that if I wished for one every night, and if I imagined seeing my own Atari sitting under the TV every day that it would eventually become a reality…around Christmas.

So I did that.  Every day I would pretend to go to the TV and turn it on.  An imaginary Atari that didn’t exist.  Then I would hold my hand as though I was holding a joystick, and just sit there, imagining the game on the screen while my parents were trying to watch TV.  Surprisingly my parents didn’t say a word.  Every night I wished for one.

Stupidly, I didn’t tell anyone that I wanted one.  Wishes don’t come true if you tell people right?

As Christmas drew near, my imagination grew stronger.  I started to imagine seeing the box under the tree, and me on Christmas morning unwrapping it, then opening it, and breathing in those all-too-familiar chemical scents that brand new electronic goods have.

It was going to be a reality.  I knew it.

Then came Christmas eve, and nothing under the tree resembled an Atari box.  I knew the dimensions by heart, such was my obsession.  But I still believed.  My parents must’ve hid it somewhere.  Probably in the roof.  I slept that night dreaming of the morning and my brand new Atari 2600.

Remember, I told no-one that I wanted an Atari for Christmas.

When I woke, the gifts under the tree remained the same as the night before.  My parents came down the stairs empty handed.  The Atari I had so desperately desired was no where to be found.

Crushed, I put on a happy face and showed my parents that I loved what they had gotten me.  There was no realisation of the dream for Wil.  Not that day anyway.

But I didn’t give up.

My current life goals seem to echo that time.  I just need to remember to not give up.

(my Atari 2600 features in one of my earlier blog posts)