Her friends always had dates and partners. They fell in love easily.
Then it dawned on Abigail. True love was a lie and fate a bitch.
The boys in her life were always flawed; they lacked the physique she found attractive, they spoke English like it was a second language, were easily unsettled if ignored and had questionable hygiene.
Most of all they were repulsed by her.
So she fell in love with fictional characters and crushed on the actors, or on musicians, or artists... anyone unknown. The biggest mistake was stalking, then the idea of them died and their flaws all that she could focus upon.
She lived in reality... but dated in fantasy.
When she was eighteen she had a crush on Rob Mills. He was gorgeous, talented, funny. A year later, while watching a repeat of Spicks and Specks, this image was shattered. He had had a very publicly known tryst with Paris Hilton. He liked tall blondes.
Though it was a fantasy, knowing that had destroyed all of her hope.
And that’s what a fantasy is built upon; the hope that one day you’ll meet, they would find you attractive and whisk you away instead of the size zero famous model.
Hope was of course, another lie.