#fantasy relationship

[moltenmoonmemes]

[bihar]

The Grip of Limerence

Sarah, a 28-year-old marketing professional, considered herself level-headed and practical. She had been in relationships before, experienced breakups, and moved on without much drama. But nothing prepared her for what happened one Tuesday morning at her local coffee shop.

The Trigger

It started innocuously enough. A new barista tall, with kind eyes and an easy smile made her usual latte. He remembered her order the second time she came in. By the third visit, they'd exchanged names. His was Alex.

That's when everything changed.

The Descent

Within days, Sarah's morning coffee run became the focal point of her entire existence. She would wake up thinking about Alex, planning what to wear, rehearsing casual conversations in the shower. Her heart would race as she approached the cafe, and she'd feel genuinely ill if he wasn't working that day.

She began timing her visits to coincide with his shifts, which she'd carefully deduced through observation. She memorized details from their brief exchanges—his love of indie music, his passion for rock climbing, the university he'd graduated from. At night, she replayed their conversations word by word, analyzing every smile, every laugh, every moment of eye contact for hidden meaning.

"Did he hold my gaze a second longer than necessary?" she'd wonder at 2 AM, unable to sleep. "When he said 'see you tomorrow,' did his voice sound hopeful?"

The Impact

Sarah's work performance suffered. She'd drift off during meetings, lost in elaborate fantasies about Alex asking her out, their first date, their future together. She stopped accepting invitations from friends—what if Alex tried to message her on social media while she was out? She checked his Instagram dozens of times daily, even though he rarely posted.

The emotional swings were exhausting. A warm greeting from Alex would send her soaring for hours. But if he seemed distracted or spent time chatting with another customer, she'd spiral into despair, convinced he'd never see her as anything more than just another patron.

The Breaking Point

After two months, Sarah's friend confronted her. "You've cancelled on me five times. You talk about nothing but this guy. This isn't healthy."

That night, Sarah googled "obsessed with someone" and discovered the term limerence. Reading about it felt like looking in a mirror. She realized her feelings weren't about Alex as a real person—she barely knew him. They were about the fantasy she'd constructed, the hope of reciprocation, the intoxicating uncertainty.

The Resolution

Sarah made a difficult decision: she found a new coffee shop. The first week was agonizing, filled with withdrawal-like symptoms—genuine grief, intrusive thoughts, the urge to "just see him one more time." But gradually, as the daily reinforcement ended, the intensity faded.

Three months later, Sarah could think about the experience with clarity. She hadn't been in love with Alex. She'd been in love with the possibility of him, trapped in a cycle her brain had created. Understanding limerence didn't make her immune to it, but it gave her the tools to recognize it—and the strength to walk away.

[thescarletlibrarian]

Remember the Sparkly Shit

TL;DR:  The big thing is caring about the little things.  Remember the sparkly shit.

This isn’t the normal sort of thing I post, and some random person on the internet who says snarky things about clothes is not your first go-to for relationship advice.  So this isn’t advice.  This is just what I notice.  And it’s not about snog-partner relationships only, it’s about human relationships.  

Take a moment to pick out the most telling phrase in this conversation.  

It’s not “make my baby happy,” although the fact that he doesn’t say “I don’t want her to be mad at me” or “I want her to forgive me” or even “say I’m sorry,” is extremely telling, because those are all about him and how she feels about him, and he just wants to make her feel happy about something, whatever it is.  She may very well still be mad at him, but she’ll be happy.  

It’s “I remember she said.”

He remembers a random comment, probably made to the cousin and not even to him, about a substance he knows nothing about.  He remembered a very little thing that she liked.  That is a big thing.

Trust me, with most women, showing up with some random sparkly shit you remember she said she liked will get you so much further than a bouquet of roses or whatever.  Those say “I want you to not be mad at me.”  And that can mean “I feel terrible when you’re mad at me,” or they can mean “look, if I give you the stupid flowers like some Hugh Grant character will you stop slamming doors?”  The point is, he doesn’t have to deal with her being mad at him.

Sparkly shit, latest book by her favorite author, something she mentioned wanting but didn’t buy for whatever reason, a favorite food (a small favorite snack or candy is always a good addition to other options), her favorite animal (be careful with that one, maybe go with a symbolic stuffed one), whatever little thing will make her happy.  Or him, because because I’ve done this with male friends and it works.  The food thing is great with guys.  With boyfriends you can indeed show up in red scanties and take it from there.  

Can’t think of anything you can get fast enough, or afford?  Get a giant-ass, neon-green, stuffed, sparkly unicorn and slap a cheap plastic Batman mask and a sombrero on it for good measure.  Show up in a funny costume (avoid anything kinky here, unless this is your version of the red scanties thing).  Whatever will make her laugh, or at the very least see that you are trying here.  You are thinking of her.  That is the big thing.

Really truly broke, or maybe the laugh thing didn’t work?  Text a picture of the sink empty of all the dishes you just washed.  Her freshly-washed car.  All I want out of life most days is somebody who will scoop my cat’s box, take out the trash, and do my dishes. Whoever her somebody is, become that somebody. 

For so many women I know and have seen on the internet, that bastion of truth, Mr. Darcy the tall, dark, brooding, rich guy is not the fantasy.  Mr. Darcy the guy who makes problems go away just to make a girl’s life not suck is the fantasy.  If he comes in a tall, dark, brooding, rich package, hey, bonus!  But the important thing is he makes her life not suck.  And he makes it not suck not because he wants her to owe him a marriage, or even want to marry him, he doesn’t even want her to know he does it, he just wants to make her life not suck.  That is the big thing.  

I’m serious, guys, unexpectedly scooping my cat box is one of the most romantic things you could do for me.  That right there is caring.  

That is the big thing.  The big thing is caring about the little things.  The Prodigal Cousin cares enough about his girlfriend to remember she likes some sparkly shit, and even if it takes him into the depths of Sephora and requires the assistance of two other women, by god, he is going to go forth and get her that sparkly shit.  He cares enough about her to remember she likes something he doesn’t care about at all.  He remembers little things about her, because making her happy is the big thing.  

Do not save this for fixing problems.  Do not reserve it for romantic entanglements.  All people know you care about them when you care about the little things, and it helps prevent or alleviate problems if that caring is firmly established to begin with.  A friend picked me up from the airport and there was a hershey’s almond bar on the seat--he remembered I like the almond ones.  That, more than the chocolate bar, or even the ride home from the airport, was a “you are my friend” signal.  A group of friends and I have a mutual support group based on sharing cute or funny animal videos with each other on facebook, and with every panda falling off a wall or whatever, we’re telling each other “hey!  This cute animal video made me think of you!” (Especially when the panda falls of the wall.)  

Post funny crap on their facebook walls. Remember people’s favorite candies and randomly show up with them.  Offer them a ride home from work. Do your roommate’s dishes so they can study that night.  Change the oil on their car. Scoop that stupid cat box. Text before something stressful to check on them.  Text after to see how it went.  Offer to fight that jerk who keeps double parking over their spot every damn day. Ask if they’ve eaten recently. Know when a rough day at work or school is coming and have breakfast or snacks or flowers or little encouraging notes and jokes on their desks when they wake up or get to work.  Or make/buy them lunch to take with them.  Dinner so they don’t have to when they get home.  

Because food is caring.  “Here, you like this food.”  “Here, you have not eaten enough food today.”  “Here, I have made, procured, or microwaved food so you don’t have to.”  You know why women think men who can cook are so great?  You know why we want to keep friends and boyfirends around who’ll make sure there’s food for us after a long day, whether it’s take out on the couch or their secret-recipe quiche on a candle-lit table?  Because it means we don’t have to.  They care enough to give us both food and nothing to do.  Having nothing to do makes our lives not suck for a bit.  Nothing is a big thing.  

The big thing is caring about the little things.

Remember that sparkly shit.

[ladylaviniya]

I just want to be looked after. I get it. Call me what you want. Gold digger, Childish, Stupid, Immature, Greedy.

I'm tired.

I know what I want is considered an unhealthy lifestyle cause it requires me to rely financially on a man.

I just hate it. Not feeling special.

What makes me feel special? Buying me gifts, giving me praise and assurance, kissing the top of my head. It lets me feel feminine and pretty. I'm tired of feeling like I have to be "Cool Girl" and "Sexy Mature Woman." When the men are barely that themselves.

I swear to god, boys still haven't changed since highschool and even when I try to date older men, they're usually perverts with kids already who just want me to be his sex doll move in Nanny.

I don't want to feel like a woman anymore. I have always been the mature one. ALWAYS. I just want to feel like a dirk again and be looked after.

I know that's considered a red flag because men don't want to look after a woman who wants to be treated like a child. I just want that stress off my shoulders. I hate the exhaustion of work and the price of rent and feeling alone and unloved and ugly. I want a man who will hold me and be patient and not attempt to pressure me into sex when I've already told him I'm not in the mood.

I want to be picked up from work by a man who waits in the carpark with a cold bottle of water and me pet names .

Or he gives me $10 half dead flowers he picked up from across the road at Woolworths just because he was in there and quickly thought of me. I would try and dry press those flowers so fast.

I'd give that man my virginity and try to give him the best head. (I've never done it but I'd learn and practice on toys just for him.)

I'd wear uncomfortable heels and wax my cunt raw for him if he wanted it.

Now I know you all read this and think "this isn't love." But you can't tell me this isn't better than going on a date with some douchebag that talks only about himself, wears shitty clothes, doesn't pay for the meal and think he's gods gift to the world before trying to kiss and fuck you without asking you if you want to or talk about condoms and pills.

I want to be treated like a pet. A dog. Feed me, cuddle me, praise me, walk me, wash and brush me. Make sure I'm taking care of myself.

"You're describing a parent not an equal partner." Okay then? I guess I want a parent. I want a parent I haven't had. If he wants to be called daddy, cool, whatever.

I want to cook and clean an apartment or house I live in with him. I want to make him cum so much and so hard that I'm the only person that can make it happen. I want to wash him in a bath we share together. I want to pour him his favourite beverage into a glass cup and hand it to him, squeeze his shoulders and massage his neck and tell him how grateful I am that I get to be in his life and how I love his generosity and care.

I want to be able to put my feet in his lap while we sit on the couch and feel him softly pinching my toes or randomly tickling my feet while we are watching a scary movie. I don't even like scary movies- like literally I avoid horror, but I'd watch it for him if he would take care of me.

I don't want to be a passenger princess- 9/10 it's some alt right asshole driving too fast and dangerously in his 4XD on a camping trip and calling it an adventure. Going up steep hills and to places without reception then try this under the stars gazing bullshit. I doubt he even knows which is the southern cross and other astrology layouts. hell white some movie from 20 years ago, claim it's some wisdom he thought of on his own 🤢 then he'll lean in for that dead eye roll kiss and his breath will smell like death along with his sweaty body odour.

I'd prefer being a passenger princess on a flight or even a boat ride. Take me fishing in a dingy. Mansplain how to catch the fish. Show me how to reel the fish in. Take the photo of me and fish. He can remove the bones descale it and I'll cook it.

I want to feel sexy and feminine while feeling like I'm the only woman in the world. I won't need to worry about the porn he has built his expectations on because he appreciates how much of a whore I'm playing to be to please him.

I want to make a shopping list and meal plan our dinners without worrying too much about the expenses. I already buy the cheap knock offs but sometimes I can't afford it all still.

I want him to have a job in corporate or arts or even if it's super masculine like tradies, that he will behave like a gentleman. Open doors, pull out my seat.

Even if he's stressed I want him to be able to smile at me and say, "Baby I'm tired due to work, I just need to have some space." So I can tell him to go have a shower while I make his favourite dinner, turn the lights down low, put it on a plate and bring it to him in bed. Give him a Panadol and water and try to not boggle him with the events of my day especially if it can wait tomorrow. But. I won't lie ...I'd probably put on HIS favourite lingerie set just to make him confused and giggle about why the hell I'm prancing around in almost the nude. I'd encourage him to destress. Vent. Even if I had no clue to what the words or work he was talking about meant, I'd make him feel like he was always in the right. Nothing would be his fault (even if it was).

[brokendreamsandpyramidschemes]

I forge armour enchanted with magic, she looks good in it while slaying monsters, a relationship.