About Unwritten

I’m starting this entry because of a close friend. She’s caught up in something that feels familiar, the kind of heady, heart-racing infatuation that makes you start filling in the blanks before you’ve even checked if the picture is real.

Infatuation has a way of making you forget the fine print. You meet someone, feel that spark, and before you’ve even had your second “coffee” together, your mind is already writing the next chapter. The holidays you’ll take. The way they’ll fit into your friend group. The look on their face when you surprise them on their birthday.

But here’s the catch: if you already know there’s no future there, you’re building castles on sand. You’re feeding a story that can only end one way: with you dismantling it piece by piece.

I’ve made this mistake before. I let an infatuation turn into a full-blown fantasy when, deep down, I already knew there was no future there. Looking back, I know I have to own my part in it. I handed him the pen to write into my fantasy. But I also blame him for not being honest about what he wanted. For keeping me close enough to feel wanted, but far enough that I’d never actually get there.

I’ve learned that fantasies aren’t harmless when they’re about someone real. They can make you ignore the obvious.. the mismatched values, the lifestyle gaps, the fact that you want entirely different things. They can make the present feel intoxicating, but they also set you up for a hangover you can’t sleep off.

There’s a difference between enjoying the moment and constructing a life in your head that will never exist. The first can be fun. The second will cost you more than you think.

If you can’t see them in your future, don’t start rehearsing the role they’ll play in it. Some sparks are meant to burn out before they set the whole place on fire.