Not Getting What I Think I Want

My other fear is:
I won’t get what I think I want.
This one can run my whole day without me noticing.
I want the conversation to go a certain way.
I want the opportunity.
I want the money.
The role.
The answer.
The outcome.
The version of the future that makes me feel safe.
When I don’t know if I’m going to get it,
my mind starts writing.
A future where I lose.
A future where I miss out.
A future where the thing I want
was the thing that would have made everything better.
That story feels believable while I’m in it.
My life is full of evidence that my want is not as reliable
as my fear suggests.
As my fear feels.
I have countless examples of getting what I wanted
and not liking it.
Or taking it for granted.
Never using it.
The clothes I was sure I wanted and never wore.
The things I chased that mattered less the moment I got them.
I also have examples of being provided things
that were nowhere on my radar.
No want.
No plan.
No hint of possibility.
Then they show up and I am amazed.
Awed.
I can’t believe how right they are,
and I didn’t even know they existed prior.
bossilicious.
That part matters.
If I’m making up a story about the future,
why is my fear so committed to the version where I lose?
Probabilities exist.
I should account for them.
Possibility and probability are not certainty.
Belief is not knowing.
A probable story is still an incomplete story.
Lie #2 says I won’t get what I think I want.
My fear treats my want like prophecy.

My experience doesn’t support that.