Falling For A Celebrity

It’s pathetic and predictable to fall for a celebrity, yet that’s exactly what I did. It’s harmless, isn’t it? I mean, he lives thousands of miles away, across oceans. He’ll never set foot in my country; he’ll never see my face or acknowledge my existence, so I might as well fantasize. It’s healthy after all, to dream. But then it all comes crashing down when they announce they’re coming. Oh no. Suddenly emotions get flooded with frustration on whether to go to the concert or not. It’s expensive and will take up the whole day with hours of waiting in line. But no, that’s not the cause of the fear. The real reason imagining being squished and shoved by thousands of fans, ones who you’d hate to admit, but are just like you. You all know all the lyrics to all the songs, get goose bumps on certain solos and have your own dance to each song. That makes you “just another one”, just one in a crowd. This neutralizes you into not being or even feeling special, but that little sparkle of hope still exists in you. The ones that tells you to go despite your biggest fears because it believes that he might just be the one, and that he’ll see that and fish you out of the entire crowd, because you are meant for each other. How fucked up is that?