I do everything in my power to prevent myself from daydreaming about scenarios with men that I already know / are interested in. It's dangerous. Sidenote: It doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. I’m still human, as much as I deny that.

HOWEVER…

It doesn’t stop me from thinking about that dude on the train this am, the guy I just “swiped right” to and that good-looking face that made eye contact with me as he was passing by. I am GUILTY AS FUCK when it comes to this. I fall into the rabbit hole of stupid simple fantasies about random men, their stellar personalities, good taste, ambition and last but not least… their amazing D’s. (Did you forget who was writing? It’s still me here… Hi. I’m Kate, I have my priorities ALL MIXED UP).

Why do I do this? Cause they’re attractive vessels with blank canvases. I can paint whatever picture I want and I will never be disappointed. I allow myself this indulgence cause it gives me hope that something still fucking exists out there for me.

But in the end I picture such simple things…

I imagine the dude with the good haircut sitting in Madison Sq. Park knows exactly how I like my coffee prepared in the morning. I imagine the man I caught eyes with across the platform brings me a bag of peanut butter M&Ms whenever he greets me on our dates. I imagine the guy across the bar will text me the most random things that make me laugh.

They are always thoughtful. Always.

Cause after a year and a half of being completely by myself… you just want someone to think of you.

Tiny… fucking… violins… again…