I'd like to say that this time, too, he came on his own, that I couldn't control it. But I'd be lying. I called him back with my loneliness. With my desperation. I did it with my weakness. Looking back Marla and I lasted much longer than we should have. I could never give her any answers. Never even tried to explain about Fight Club or Project Mayhem. Surely she guessed a lot of it, but she never once brought it up. So it as Marla and me for a while there. We laughed. We fucked. We pushed our lives together, all the while trying to ignore the giant hole that he'd left. It must have been so strange for her. Missing me, or at least thinking it was me that she missed, while I was right in front of her. Sometimes she would stare at me for what felt like hours. Searching my face, she would try to figure out what it was that had changed. In the end, I did what I could to save her. Withdrew into myself. I gave her nothing left to hold onto. And it worked. She left. As I should have known she'd have to from the start. We never could have worked. We're both still in love with Tyler.

With Tyler gone, and now Marla, I still made soap. I told myself I did it out of boredom. I did it to hold on to Tyler's memory. Then one night, while I was stealing the fat from the dumps at the liposuction center, there he was. As real and as cool as ever. I ignored him all the way home. I didn't really think he'd go away if I didn't acknowledge him. I just wasn't ready to give in to having no power again. As we walked back to my new apartment it occurred to me that Tyler had never cared what I was or was not ready for.

No sooner than had I closed and locked the doors he was on top of me, tackling me to the floor.

"You act like you didn't even miss me," he whispered.

I could feel his warm breath, his lips grazing my ear. The sensation sent shivers down my spine.

"You're not real," I told him, "You don't exist."

"Don't I?" his eyebrow quirked and there was a predatory glint in his bright blue eyes.

"You're in my head," I insisted, " I created you. I can control you."

"Then do it. Stop me." He took off his imaginary shirt, revealing his toned, imaginary chest and abs.

I tried to convince myself that he was no more substantial than a daydream. All the while he was lifting my shirt over my head. He began placing searing kisses down my neck, shoulders, chest, stomach. Desperately, I tried to convince myself that it wasn't real. I was dreaming, or hallucinating. But the notion didn't hold up the the pressure of his lips and the warm moisture of his mouth. I'd wanted this back when Tyler was outside of me. Before I'd known he was a voice in my head. And as pathetic as it was, I wanted it still. I just hadn't known how badly.

"I never got to show you how good I am at this.

"Tyler, please, you have to leave. You're dangerous."

At this he looked up at me, fingers still poised to undo the button of my jeans.

"That's what you're afraid of. The trouble I'll cause out there in the wide world. He raised himself up to kiss me, and for the first time his firm pink lips were on mine. I was overwhelmed. I saw what he saw: what had really been frightening me.

"This isn't about changing the world. I'm here to take care of you this time, kid. I'm gonna be your mommy and your daddy and your lover. You need me."

"I don't need you," I lied. "You're the worst thing that ever happened to me."

"Don't be stupid. You've been addicted before. You know as well as anyone that its possible to need something that isn't good for you."

Understanding fully now that he wouldn't leave me. That I could never belong to anyone but Tyler, I gave in. Gave myself over to a delusion so real I question every other aspect of life. Tyler fucked me so many times that night that I lost count. Marla was right. He was amazing.