The fact is there is a world of difference between what we'd like to be true, and what really is true. If I am honest with myself, I'd like for him to be an atheist, but he's not. I'd like for him to care about me more than he does, but he doesn't. I'd like for him to at least remain my friend, but it's not entirely clear that that's going to happen either. In the latter case, I could, I suppose, go on pretending that it was true anyway. I could pester him with emails, and call him over and over until I ran up my phone bill. I could hunt him down on the internet and show up at his house and pretend that he wanted that. I could throw myself at him, and tell people I was having his baby.... But you know what they do to people who do that? They call them insane, or throw them in prison, because they have clearly deviated from reality and become a danger to others.
When it comes to the world on a bigger scale, it'd be nice, I suppose, to never feel alone. To know that someone loved you and wouldn't abandon you. That unlike friends and loved ones that some eternal god would always care for you. I suppose it would be nice in some sense. But then there is reality: the reality that people do leave you, and you are sometimes alone, and people do die, and there is death. Reality is not always pleasant, but it is the way it is. Pretending that it is something else is a kind of sickness, too. Perhaps it's a way of coping with the unpleasant, but what if you push away real people who love you in favour of the fantasy? Doesn't it become a sickness then?
My life is often not a carnival ride, but it is my life. I will embrace reality and I will survive until my time is up, and take what joy from it I can. Reality is sometimes not fun, but it's really all there is.