I have a very active imagination. I catastrophize in both good ways and bad, and I often build up possibilities that aren’t all that probable. I wonder if by doing so, I am only setting myself up for disappointment, but on the flip side, I’m keeping magical hope alive.
I was recently talking with another single friend about future things, and made the remark that – for the most part, and most of the time – I’m cool with being single. If it weren’t for my desire to actually have a child, I wouldn’t be concerned with any sort of relationship time table. I like making my own decisions and doing things on my terms. On the other hand, I’m excited to meet the guy I’m going to end up with, and have waited all this time for. What’s he going to be like? She knew exactly what I was talking about, related, and gave it a name – hope.
Some of my made-up fantasy projections start as one-liners. Like: one of the neurologists on the cruise just happens to be from Austin. Then, before I know it, we click, and it’s awesome because I’m going to Austin after the cruise. We’ll spend a lot of time together, and then I’ll decide to move there. It will be really convenient because my car will already be there so we’ll just fly to LA, rent a truck, load it up and roadtrip it out.
Possible? Why not? Will I be disappointed if it doesn’t happen? Of course not. It was just an idea I had once.
I also have a fantasy of a surprise proposal somehow incorporating an Airstream. (Of course I do.) But as I scripted out the entire event in my head, I lamented that if it ever really did happen, I had already ruined the surprise. Yes. I know how crazy that sounds.
And then today. A friend asked me to check out the planting of several cherry blossom trees in the park near my house. By the time I got there, I had already planned the following:
I would be taking pictures when I would come across a guy who was also taking pictures. As the story developed, this guy became someone I recently met and refer to as Matthew Crawley. (If you’re not watching Downton Abbey, you should be.) So MC and I run through the trees (which are magically in full bloom) taking super fun pictures of each other and the two of us together. We of course decide to spend the rest of the afternoon together in the park, and I suggest the carousel since it’s nearby. More fun pictures. He’s a really good photographer. Next activity is his choice, and suddenly we’re riding the train through Travel Town. I decided he would edit the day’s events into an awesome video.
And I thought it all up while driving the four miles to my destination. I’m telling you guys. A mile a minute this brain of mine. Maybe faster.
Of course when I got to the park – and the place where the cherry blossoms were supposed to be – there was only a newly-planted sapling, and nobody but families hanging around waiting for pony rides and – oddly enough – the train. I don’t think it’s the same one that goes through Travel Town, but that was a little weird.
Perhaps I should start writing romantic comedies. I apparently have a lot of potential ideas. Or maybe I’ll write a book of short stories called “Guys I Never Met” about the ones I create in my mind. Ha! Seriously, tho. Where do these thoughts come from?! And more importantly, is this a normal amount of overthinking, or is my brain in overdrive?