The Fantasy

The Fantasy.  I mean, I want it… don’t you?

There are three fantasy scenarios most females at my age vacillate between with some differences based on their sexual orientation and ethnicity.

1.) Tall, dark stranger with rugged good looks and a haunted past is enamored of you but doesn’t understand why.  This manifests into a hateful relationship between the two of you which make you both detest each other, but your friends think you belong together.  He fights his inner passion for you until one day he can no longer resist and aggressively has his way with you in some outdoor location that has either sand or soft, dewey grass.  He later regrets his decision and leaves you sobbing outside on a rainy day, but then realizes he can’t live without you and sweeps you off to be married somewhere after revealing that he is heir to a vast fortune.

2.) Boy next store with puppy dog eyes has loved you since the day he first saw you, but he was your best friend and you couldn’t imagine him any other way.  Eventually, he regretfully moves on and gets another girlfriend who is totally not right for him, and you watch from the side with increasing jealousy as she treats him inappropriately.  On the day he tells you he wants to propose to her, you break down and admit that you do actually love him.  After a brief moment of annoyance, he kisses you passionately and you ride off into the sunset in the mercedes benz he somehow became wealthy enough to afford.

3.) Coworker with the surprisingly built body under his suit and tie flirts with you until you agree to go on a date you think won’t go anywhere because you have nothing in common with him.  Over dinner and drinks at an upscale restaurant you find that you actually have everything in common, and after catching a glimpse of the two of you walking side by side in a window, realize what an amazingly attractive couple you make.  This prompts you to invite him upstairs where you are surprisingly delighted to find that he has a kinky side hidden beneath his Hugo Boss exterior.  After dating for several years and vacationing on islands owned by his family, you marry him and spend your days writing novels since his seven figure salary allowed you to retire at age 28.

The only thing these fantasies have in common is that they are too good to be true.  Unfortunately, it’s what I want and I have literally spent the last decade looking for one of them after reading an Animorphs book in seventh grade and deciding that my future husband was going to be an underground alien invasion fighter who could shapeshift into animals.

… And we wonder why I’m single.


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