A still murky conception of love notwithstanding...

I have this psychosis-inducing fantasy of meeting a girl in Thailand I could really, truly--like objectively--love. This fantasy seems just as (un)realistic to realize here as anyplace. Different than desire, I never expect fantasy to come to fruition. The criteria I maintain for the fantasy girl I could fall in love with in Thailand is very tight. Observation of the slightest foul audio or visual cue triggers a psychosomatic response that starts with crestfallenness, moves to resignation, onto post-Thanksgiving-day-turkey-feast fatigue/nausea, and finally resolves at term-paper-due-tomorrow-noon anxiety. It is too often that my desires, language, cultural points of reference, and predisposition to what I consider gauche, non-verbally (un)communicative gestures don’t interface well with most people, which is actually fine. Well, it is fine here, in Thailand, because my frustrated expectations I usually find to be wrapped up in some kind of culturally interesting observation, whereas at home, they--my frustrated expectations--are wrapped up in nothing, and so kind of depressing. Moreover, I don’t need to find the fantasy girl I could fall in love with in Thailand; it would be a dangerous thing if we all made such demands of our fantasies. That I come deceivingly close to finding what I think is the fantasy girl I could, once again--objectively--fall in love in Thailand triggers psychosis, or whatever is that arrests my words and breathing and mental chatter when I think I'm visited by one of these specters.