My therapist thinks I’ve romanticized you.
(Newsflash: I have.)
Blames an active childlike imagination,
my need for fun, and a past
of repressed spontaneity.
Tells me there is safety in the fantasy
and you’re a sexy-lunatic.
My personal opinion is
that he has trivialized this whole situation.
Also, that he is an asshole.
Although the sound of your laughter
is really quite unnerving.
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