The Evaporation of Fancy

There is no one to think about.   You know fanaticize, day dream, hypothesize about – at all. It has become an abyss of imagination for me. I can no longer attempt to picture myself with that special dream someone. There is no dream – it is turned to nothingness.

You would think in your twenties there would be a multitude of love interests to take on the role of your fantasy mate. Possibly crushes are the only in the teenage realm and it just took me longer than most to mature out of that stage. But I don’t want to and that is the problem. I am not having passionate relations with anyone and to be devoid of the imaginative trappings of one is so very sad. Sad or is the right term pathetic? I mean what do you do when you cannot even fantasize – do you die? Maybe my heart will dry up and I will slowly slip into spinster insanity.

And I feel desperate about it in the worst way. I mean I have given up on exes (nothing dream like about them), childhood crushes (too far away or balding at this point), friends (oh come on they are gay), friends of friends (they are in long term relationships that all the force of my imagination cannot eradicate) or even celebrities (I am never going to meet these men & they are dating model/actresses so they would never date me anyhow). So I am left with the black hole.

Single, alone, and stuck in this reality. Because that is what our fantasies do after all – allow us to escape from our every day lives. It wasn’t so bad not having the slightest semblance of a boyfriend when I could conjure one up but now I just feel the emptiness. Empty is not a feeling I suppose, rather the antithesis of feeling, yet it feels the worst of all.

Maybe there will be a new star on the tube or a cute guy on the bus and I can get back to imagining away my lonely, single life. Or maybe I actually meet a real flesh and blood guy and have a real flesh and blood relationship and then I won’t have to invent one. Why is that the most impossible to envision?