It's weird how the world tricks you...
If I ask you to picture your dream person in your head, a list of things come to mind.
So it's weird and honestly *******,
I'm sorry but why am I wired to think that this is what would be perfect for me,
but she's there and I'm there but she's not here.
You understand?
Here's me and there she is.
Yes she's there in the same place the same world and looks at the same clock.
she's there.
But she's not here in this second the same second I'm in.
Not in the same mindset.

She is that girl I always wanted to have at least for a moment.
She's a girl who if I said she was mine people wouldn't believe me because she's a better writer than me and can sing and dance and act and lives in New York.

Here's a dream That I've dreamt, and it's a dream come true but it's coming true for her.
She's really doing things.
I read poetry at coffee shops,
she goes to AMDA.

Here's a scenario:

You have two artists, they were never really close but they grew up together at the same time and in the same places.
And there's this little spark, a flickering of almost.
At least for one of them.
Say he isn't intimidated by how much she does everything he wishes he would be doing and  say he looks at her and says wow she really is pretty and he's surprised, not because he expected her not to be, he's surprised that someone who loves the things he loves is there and always was but he never looked at her and said wow.
So he looks and says "wow" and she hears him and he tries to act like he didn't really just look at her and audibly say so loud the whole state of Ohio could hear. But. She laughs and says thank you.
So next time he sees her he doesn't say wow, but says hi, and next time he asks her what's her favorite smell and
when was the last time she really thought about how the wind blows in a certain direction and that something like the wind that seems random has more direction than we do.
And she loves those questions and asks him some of her own. like
would you rather have true love or be rich
and
do you get olives on your pizza?
And he think it's cute that her nickname is olive and that she used it in a question because she doesn't know you know that's her nickname. And it's like she's asking does he think he'd like her on a pizza. Well he'd like her anywhere.
but long story short they date. And she pushes him to pursue writing as more than a release and a hobby and encourages him to do what he loves even if his parents doubt he can. And so they move to New York together. They have adventures and they take dance class together and they're partners and it's the most fun they've really ever had. And they get to go home together and it's really nice because they're both deep and emotional. and they express how much they love eachother in the most beautiful ways. Like the letter he left by her nightstand that said "if i wake up and you're still here, I still love you same as yesterday and same as tomorrow and if you're still here, here are pancakes :)" ......

It's cute what you can make up in your head to distract from the complete **** that is your dating life.

Here's Reality:
She dates a guy whos better looking than I am so what can I really do anyway? She is a girl that if I was with her I would be infatuated with but would always think that she was settling and I would always be reaching for her to think that I was something special like she was. But those are just wishes and dreams I've had and Ive always got this feeling that this guy was honestly a **** boy. But like who am I? An arrogant ***** to think that I'm perfect for her, she's too big (vast, unfathomable, and unreachable) for me to be perfect and my words are small and quiet and there's not much courage behind them because there's a place that self confidence goes when you really think about your chances with someone who fits the description of a dream perfectly. It's like you think of yourself as a ghost and a figament of your own imagination to sit next to her at ihop. And she reads poetry about this guy that you think is a **** boy and her poems read "he is a **** boy" but I don't think she reads them really. She wrote them but can't read what they're saying. If only ghosts could read and could say hi this is what you wrote lol just saying. And hi my name isn't **** boy I hope that is okay because I know all the ones before me were named **** boy. But I am a ghost and she is infinite.
And she's gone, and at night, lights shine and spread hope and joy into the air and it floats into the window of her room.
But my night floats thoughts through the air and there's not light and there's no hope because she has skyscrapers and busy streets and art in everything she sees.
And I have my bed and my small school and my notes in my phone for art.
She is an olive and I'm not even food.
I'm something like a shoe or something else random.