Ever since I was so young, I preferred my fantasies over real individuals and events. I took the way life looked for granted. I hoped to someday meet my ideal boyfriend. Thing is, the kind of friends I sought could never be ideal or perfect. For the past twenty years, I'd stare at a wall or the floor and imaging an ideal life and relationship. Then important matters would pop up, and I'd snap my face awake and realize I'm making it all up. If I took action and made things happen. Not only would I be healthier and sharper today, my life would've looked better. I'm so glad that I quit when I did. Because it doesn't matter what I do, my family persists I stare into space. It's just, I can't help it. I automatically do it, because I did it for years. 

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