When you are lonely you can only think about fantasies with the people you want to be living those out with. Maybe they exist but they are not in your house on your bed or in the house on your bed, or not on the bed by the house. They hang out in the imagination that laps the back of your eyes pushing you forward to see but only realizing that your lip is really heavy, the heaviest part of your body when you are lonely.
So then what? You make a memory. You remember when you were lonely. Do you? What did you have? A fantasy, an imagined fantasy.
I often think the relationships I never had but that were in my head were the best ones to date.
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