Hi.
It’s Me.
I’m your Imaginary Friend.
We’ve known each other for most of our lives.
My friends and family have all met you more than thrice.
I’ve met your parents and shared meals with them.
I’ve held you in my arms and tasted your lips on my mouth.
But I’ve never been a part of your life.
This isn’t trust.
This is lust.
This is loneliness.
Hi.
We’re imaginary friends.
I’ve watched your life grow and flourish from the other side of the glass.
The reflection only ever showed me standing alone in the cold grass.
I’ve never met your husband or friends.
You’ve been my best friend for nearly two decades.
I’ve been your imaginary friend for too long to count.
This isn’t the friendzone.
This is emptiness.
This is loneliness.
Hi.
It’s me again.
You’re my imaginary friend.
I think back on the memories shared and bonds forged.
They seem so near to touch.
They feel so far to see.
Your voice booms and echoes between my ears.
I reach out to silent replies.
I fight back the tears in my eyes.
This isn’t love.
This is heartbreak.
This is loneliness.
Hi.
It’s me.
I’m tired of imaginary friends.
I’ve tried so hard for naught.
You have no room for me and that’s alright.
I’ve learned to accept the place people create for you in their life.
I’ve learned to accept the passing of a seasonal friendship.
Do I still look imaginary to you?
This isn’t friendship.
This is apathy.
This is loneliness.
Hi.
It’s me.
I’ve learned how to be my own friend.
I imagine where you are and what you’re doing.
I still get teary-eyed when I tug the heartstrings of you.
I still message you, but I’ve stopped expecting replies.
I still have your number memorized, but I know you won’t answer.
This is growing apart.
This is learning to live without.
This is loneliness.
