I Love You, Even Though You Aren't Real
They were always trying to convince me that you weren't real, that you didn't really exist. They told me you were just a figment of my imagination. I didn't want to believe them, I fought with all my might against their lies about you. However, no matter how badly you may want to believe it is true, repeating the same thing over and over, time and time again will always leads to doubt.
When I was little it was okay. My parents thought it was cute. They would say, "Aw, look! Little Al has an imaginary friend, how cute is that?" When I tried to tell them they were wrong and that you were real, all they would do was smile and laugh. "Of course, sweetheart."
I remember the hours we would spend playing together. We would stay up way past my bed time talking about the world and what the future was going to be like. The world was so exciting then. Everything was carefree, there was nothing to worry about then. All that mattered was we had each other.
Everything started to change quickly. I started middle school, and while being considered young, I was now also considered older. To my parents and the other adults in my life, it was way past time to let go of my "imaginary" friend. My parents tried to pass it off as a phase that I would eventually grow out of. It wasn't cute anymore, and they started pushing me to forget about you and move on, to grow up. Being naïve at the time, I continued to insist that you were real. I couldn't understand how they expected me to just forget about you, the best friend that I've ever had. The only friend. I was teased and bullied throughout middle school, but I never let it get to me because I had you there to catch me when I fell. During student-teacher conferences, my teachers would bring up my strange behavior in class, to which my parents would respond with a quick, "Oh, don't worry about it. We're still working on it with him. It'll come to an end soon."
Middle school went by in a blur, and before I knew it I was starting high school. My parents sat down to talk with me the day before classes started.
"Al, we need to talk." My mom had approached me in a calm tone. She didn't need to tell me about what, I knew what she wanted to talk about. We sat at the kitchen table. They both had concerned looks on their faces. "We've been over this a thousand times already. He's not real, Alfred." I protested, I was so tired of having this conversation. I fought with them, mostly with my mom, until finally dad spoke up.
"If you don't put a stop to this foolishness, then you'll leave us with no choice." There was silence. He didn't need to explain, he had threatened sending me to the mental hospital on more than once occasion. Something told me that he was serious about it this time. I decided, perhaps a little too late, that it was best that I just acted like everything was normal, just enough to convince them that they had finally gotten through to me and I had forgotten about you. You said so yourself that it was for the best. You smiled and laughed it off, but something seemed off.
I really ought to thank you for how much you helped me through high school. I don't know what I would have done without you. Not that you ever helped me to cheat, but you certainly made studying a lot easier. My parents were glad to see that I was getting good grades, it helped ease the process of having them believe that I had forgotten you. They had bought into charade quickly, and soon it seemed that they had completely forgot about you.
However, I had let my guard down thinking that my parents had forgotten about. They overheard a conversation you and I were having, and know… Well, now I don't know what to do. I can't keep pretending because they know I was lying. My dad said he was going to take me to meet some named Dr. Ivan. I'm honestly kind of scared about what's going to happen.
"Welcome, Alfred. I'm Dr. Ivan. You're parents have informed me that you are having troubles letting go of an imaginary friend from when you were young. Is that so?" Dr. Ivan smiled at me and waited patiently for my answer.
"I guess you could say that, though I wouldn't call him imaginary, he is my friend." The doctor nodded, his silver hair bobbing with the motion.
"Why don't you tell me about your friend? What's his name? What is he like?" He pulled out a pad of paper and picked up a pen. He looked over at me expectantly, waiting to write down what I had to say.
"Well, where do I even begin?" I paused for a moment to gather what I was going to say about you. "His name is Arthur, Arthur Kirkland. He's from England. He has messy, short blond hair and deep green eyes." It had dawned upon me that I have never really described you to anyone before. "He's usually pretty grumpy and sarcastic. Even though he is a bit rude sometimes, he can also be really kind and funny. He's incredibly smart."
The doctor was writing down everything I said onto his notepad, with an occasionally 'hm' and 'ah' to single me to keep going. He asked me a few more questions about when I had first started to see you, if I was able to physically touch you, and where you were currently.
"I guess I've been able to see him for as long as I can remember, I don't really know when it started. I have occasionally been able to actually touch him, but that's usually pretty rare. And I'm not sure where he is right now, he seemed nervous about me coming here today." I answered all of his questions as honestly as I could. Dr. Ivan gave a nod and stood up, indicating that the session was over.
"You sit tight here, Alfred. I'm going to have a word with your parents." He left the room, leaving me there in the office alone to contemplate what he was telling me parents.
"Probably that you're crazy in the head."
It has been a month since then, and they have been forcing me to take these pills that are supposed to "help me." I'm starting to worry about what these pills are actually doing, though. Arthur, I've been seeing less and less of you every day. What's going on? Everything about you used to be so clear and bright, but now each time I see you it's like I'm trying to see you through a foggy window. I feel like I'm starting to forget important things about you.
They may have been right all along. Maybe you weren't real after all. At least, not to them you weren't. Though you were always real to me.
There's something that I want you to know before I forget to tell you.
I love you, even though you aren't real… I'm so sorry, please don't be mad at me, but what's your name again?
Hello! It has been quite a long time since I last posted on here. And I really didn't intend on posting anything either. However, for a creative writing class we had to write a short story, and I couldn't really come up with anything on the spot, so I figured I could revisit an old piece that I wrote a long while back and edit it up to something more current. So, basically this is that. I think it is quite an improvement from the older version.