Sometimes

Sometimes I think about you like you are some great possibility off in the distance...
Someone that would make life a little more interesting;

a little more fun; a little more dangerous; a little more whole; a little more safe.

And I like to consider what will happen someday when we're out of excuses
And one of us ends up in the vicinity of the other

But then I remember all the things you've said about fantasy and reality
And I know that in my mind, you're some kind of fantasy;
Maybe a representation of a free me;
Or a manifestation of my desperation.

After all, maybe I'm just a lonely fat chick that just wants you to be what I believe you are.
And maybe you don't want to measure up to that fantastic assessment

But then I consider the fact that all things begin with a fantasy
And it makes me think it's okay to want you;
Maybe just for kicks and giggles;
Or possibly to lift me out of this hole.

And I'm not so far from reality in that I haven't forgotten that all people are morons
And that includes you and even me.
Some people are also wonderful, though, in spite of their flaws.
Sometimes I think you are wonderful too. Mostly I do.

But if I'm honest with myself,
I see that I don't actually want you to be some wonderful prince
That sweeps me off my feet and takes me to a life of bliss
Actually, not even a little bit.

And if I'm honest with myself,
I see that I'm just looking for people that would take a chance on me;
Who might put it all on the line to see what kind of person I really am and
Actually get to know me beyond what I present and allow them to believe.

I know that I'm not searching for someone to save me or rescue me.
I know that I don't want happily ever after.
I know that I don't even want someone to myself.
I know that what I'd like is to find people that simply like me; for who I am.

Sometimes I wonder if people like that exist.
Some do, I know, though, because I do.
I take my chance on you, and others like you and
I like you, just the way you are.

And I scare you and them.
And I find myself holding this fantasy.
Waiting for the perfect moron to come along.
Waiting for some kind of wonderful to be revealed.

Believing that there is something off in the distance; a possibility.
Believing that a part of that possibility is you.