LIfe is just a fantasy

She is known by many names, one of which is Jane. She is just the sweetest little angel. But I'm not quite sure that she realizes it yet. I try to remind her as often as possible. It's not easy, as she's far away (Philadelphia), making ends meet in strip clubs around town. She's done some topless (and really) funny stuff on this one new porn website. Well, funny and hot. But Jane just does it for me. And not just in that skin on skin friction kind of way. She's like the girl I want to hang out on the couch with watching bad cable TV and drinking tea and smoking pot and eating toast in footie pajamas with the nubby foot-bottoms on them and everything. I want to play songs for her and let her pick the ones that make her want to make out and then put them all on a CD for a soundtrack for kissing parties. I know I want I want I WANT. But I just WANT to be loved. Is that so wrong?