Fantasy...
I never realized how much I loved to believe in just that, in my world, in my fantasy, in my make believe.
I always liked playing dress-up, still do..
Where are those red 4 inch heeled shoes, oh and the dress and the long brown hair?
Belief was so important...that to question, to bring out contradictions, variances was never an option. I would NOT, I could NOT .... see anything but my fantasy ... and damn it, if it was real for me it had to be real to everyone else.
I remember selling someone on my fantasy, trying to make it real for me and convince them of the truth....my truth.
Oh yes...my fantasy would win, I know it...and I would march fiercely defending, believing in just that ... and if selling someone on my fantasy did not work ... I could wait.
And wait I did...I was good at that. It was easier to live in my mind then to face the truth.
To uncover the truth of a fantasy was to shine light on a belief ... and in my world it became DANGEROUSLY illuminating..
So I continued...justifying my illusion, selling my illusion, believing in my illusion ... in possibilities, in the future ... until it became so obviously unreal that the present could no longer be denied or hidden from myself.
Fantasies have many flavors. Mine was of rich, smooth chocolate or warm cafe mocha's ... swirled with perfection ... perfection of love..
Funny, the idea of love ... it got me every time ... whenever I felt truly touched within myself with someone else I would expect that feeling to be equal, shared, received and returned ...
and if not, I would wait patiently like a school girl waiting for the bus .. or more likely at the window for my father ...
If you were good, he would come, wouldn't he?
I feel I have been waiting most of my life for that school bus, never wanting to see my truth ... and now realizing I never needed to wait.
I have feet that can cover the distance. The cost of waiting or fantasizing is BIG to my soul ... an illusion filled with fear, wrapped in the safety of denial. An illusion without any true substance or nourishment ... an illusion that is oh ... so exhausting to maintain.
And then the anger, the sadness, the initial terror as well as the personal power I have felt when I realize the importance of being true to myself no matter what the perceived cost...
and you can only imagine what my cost would have to be to fit this story ... of red heeled shoes and coffee mocha's swirled with perfection of love....
My fantasy of love...
A fantasy I have built my life around.
Funny... when I realize I had it all along within myself, waiting for me to discard that school bus and turn within. I never needed to fantasize...
But I still see myself in those 4 inch red heels and the long brown hair....
I never realized how much I loved to believe in just that, in my world, in my fantasy, in my make believe.
I always liked playing dress-up, still do..
Where are those red 4 inch heeled shoes, oh and the dress and the long brown hair?
Belief was so important...that to question, to bring out contradictions, variances was never an option. I would NOT, I could NOT .... see anything but my fantasy ... and damn it, if it was real for me it had to be real to everyone else.
I remember selling someone on my fantasy, trying to make it real for me and convince them of the truth....my truth.
Oh yes...my fantasy would win, I know it...and I would march fiercely defending, believing in just that ... and if selling someone on my fantasy did not work ... I could wait.
And wait I did...I was good at that. It was easier to live in my mind then to face the truth.
To uncover the truth of a fantasy was to shine light on a belief ... and in my world it became DANGEROUSLY illuminating..
So I continued...justifying my illusion, selling my illusion, believing in my illusion ... in possibilities, in the future ... until it became so obviously unreal that the present could no longer be denied or hidden from myself.
Fantasies have many flavors. Mine was of rich, smooth chocolate or warm cafe mocha's ... swirled with perfection ... perfection of love..
Funny, the idea of love ... it got me every time ... whenever I felt truly touched within myself with someone else I would expect that feeling to be equal, shared, received and returned ...
and if not, I would wait patiently like a school girl waiting for the bus .. or more likely at the window for my father ...
If you were good, he would come, wouldn't he?
I feel I have been waiting most of my life for that school bus, never wanting to see my truth ... and now realizing I never needed to wait.
I have feet that can cover the distance. The cost of waiting or fantasizing is BIG to my soul ... an illusion filled with fear, wrapped in the safety of denial. An illusion without any true substance or nourishment ... an illusion that is oh ... so exhausting to maintain.
And then the anger, the sadness, the initial terror as well as the personal power I have felt when I realize the importance of being true to myself no matter what the perceived cost...
and you can only imagine what my cost would have to be to fit this story ... of red heeled shoes and coffee mocha's swirled with perfection of love....
My fantasy of love...
A fantasy I have built my life around.
Funny... when I realize I had it all along within myself, waiting for me to discard that school bus and turn within. I never needed to fantasize...
But I still see myself in those 4 inch red heels and the long brown hair....
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