Pete and I were talking once about fantasy and reality. It seems that addicts love to live in their fantasy world.
"What's so wrong with your reality?" I asked. Feeling hurt that I was the woman in his reality and it felt as though he preferred his fantasy.
"Don't YOU ever have fantasies?" He asked.
I assumed he meant sexual fantasies and my mind drew a blank. But I'm beginning to understand that I indulge in a fantasy world too.
I fantasize about waking up in the morning when my body feels rested, and just lying there in the comfort of my blankets, without little voices and faces pestering me about breakfast and cartoons.
I fantasize about getting a phone call at 4:00 from Pete where he says "Don't worry about dinner tonight. I'm getting take-out. What sounds good to you?"
At church I fantasize about someone saying something wonderful about me from the pulpit, complimenting me in front of the entire congregation.
I fantasize about having a friend who stops by for no reason.
I fantasize about moving with my little family to Amsterdam and living in a tiny cramped apartment. We would ride our bikes everywhere and on the weekends in the Spring we would go see the dutch tulips.
I fantasize about having a mother who loves herself enough to love and accept me unconditionally.
And of course, sometimes I fantasize that sex addiction isn't a part of my life. I imagine Pete spending his evenings eating dinner with us, and going to movies with us rather than attending SA meetings. I dream that our hardest conversations would be about our six-year-old's fiery temper. I fantasize about never seeing that look on his face right before a confession, and the excruciating anticipation about what the words are going to be.
So, I'm sorry if you are disappointed. The most scanadalous fantasy I ever have is when I daydream that this song was written about me.
There are a lot of fun covers of this song. Brandon Flowers here and T. Swift here.