I'm lying to myself. I give myself false hope and false expectations that never match up to reality. At times I twist circumstances around in my mind to make them seem better than they actually are. I think too much about the smallest, most insignificant gestures and blow them up like balloons and float around in this euphoric bubble of what could be and what I want to happen, and am always so let down by what I'm left with, an almost, could-be, maybe situation. I think too much into a smile and catching someone's eye from across the room. I think too much into an accidental hand brushing and prolonged eye contact. I tell myself that it can still happen, and I cling to the tiniest little glimmers of hope, even though I know there's a little itch I can't scratch that tells me that I'm wrong, and that I can't make something out of nothing. I tend to live in this fantasy world, where I believe that so long I wish for it hard and long enough, I will be able to achieve it.