Prince(ss) Charming

She always sat
Just out of reach of my mind’s eye sight
And just beyond my imagination’s ability
To conjure pictures of her
So she neither existed in the present
Nor within the recesses of my memory
Yet she would shine brilliantly at a distance
A strong notion of everything I wanted
But nothing indicated clearly or vividly enough to grasp
More so an idea of the energy she’d emit as opposed to the tone of her skin
Or the fullness of her laugh
Yet she was something I had to have
And she was what I would focus on
A translucent ball of wonder
For me to lay under
Almost.
Kind of.
Specific.
Yet nothing explicit enough to let me know who she was were I to meet her.
I figured I knew enough of what she was
Yet I couldn’t tell you anything about her physical features
I just know
Sort of,
What I want her to have
From waist to bust to assest
To other menial facets that most wouldn’t take time to fathom
This,
Daughter of Eve of mother of Adam
Became my obsession
Yet the only question I had, was when I would see her
Never really considering that we may have already met
And if so,
How much of the fantasy would I have to forget?
Was I more concerned with this than reality,
And am I the maker of my own lonely maladies?
The question, plain as day
Do we set to many standards to the point where we get in the way?
Do we try to make love accommodate our itinerary?
Are our expectations of self to low and others too contrary?
Are we chasing a dream because reality is too scary?
How much of our personal growth and development are we harming
As we pursue our view of Prince or Princess Charming?