fantasy was never a woman's thing.
it was a quiet man’s sport.
men who had desires too large for the lives they were living and no legitimate container to put them in. so they built one. quietly. for fantasy is not an escape from the mundane, but an embrace.
greatness leaks out of ordinary gestures in a man like this. he has submitted to something larger than himself and it shows in the mundane because the mundane is where real character lives when nobody is performing.
fantasy gave desire somewhere to live while the man figured out how to be worthy of what he wanted.
fantasy did not make men weak. it made them patient.