The Fantasy

I was talking to Coffee the other night and I told him I wanted him to come scoop me up and take me for a ride. I told him I wanted him to bring me flowers as well. 

"That's not too much to ask," he said, but I wasn't done. 

I let him know that I wanted him to read me a poem, then park somewhere we could slow dance to "Cupid" by 112 under the stars. I jokingly not jokingly told him I plan to wear a princess dress for this evening.

"Then are you going to throw your braid out the window so I can climb up the castle?" he cracked. 

Listen, I know that it sounds good and crazy that a 41-year-old woman would hold on to such delulu fantasies. However, since making a vow to try to date a few years back, I have to say that being in reality with these guys is no fun. It's just a Ferris wheel of lies, ghosting, dream-dealing, and exhaustion. If I am only going to have a limited amount of time with these guys anyway, I might as well start marking things off the fantasy list. If I can find a guy eager to take me on a picnic in the park or a romantic hot air balloon ride, I may have to marry him. Just to be clear, this man is not Coffee. 

"If I sent you flowers via Door dash, would it still count?" Coffee asked. 

"Yep," I answered. I will send you a pic if I get them.