Dear Fantasy

Dear Fantasy,

You interrupt the rhythm of my day once more. My hot tea has gone cold from neglect of your doing. The mundane floats about me as if Wonderland has been unleashed. But I am no Alice, and you are not my Hatter.

You are more like the caterpillar, blurring my vision with one of your own. There is no cohesion to your stories, but how delicious the taste that lingers from the tales you spin.

As I finally fain to put my cold mug away, I trudge through my chores, still dwelling upon thoughts of you.

The bright colours from my clothing that need washing are sullied further by your intrusion. Their colours become dull upon their interaction with you.

My dearest Fantasy, you arrive unannounced at the most inconvenient of times, knowing well that I would never turn away an opportunity for pleasure. You take advantage of me, my dear Fantasy, as I allow you to lead me through exciting scenarios, in exotic and fantastical places.

You are making me wish I could stay, but one cannot survive off of burnt meals forever.

I must implore you to be practical. You are always welcome in my bed. We can be comfortable there, and what wonderful company you would be! We will live amongst sweet dreams allowing us to happily fly away to a Neverland of places. Where time is still and waters calm. It is a place for us to play, my dear Fantasy.

Now, dear Fantasy, do not be offended when I ask you to leave me to my tasks, my chores, my mundane. For it is these things that stir me to long for your visits. The distance inflates the need for you.

I hope this letter finds you well, my dear Fantasy. Do take your time to visit again, but remember, you are never far from my thoughts. You have my love, dearest Fantasy.

Sincerely,

Yours.