'Have you given my request any more thought?', asks my Imaginary Friend.
'Well, you control most of my thoughts at the moment, so you should know the answer to that one', I reason.
'Mr Nice would be good for you.'
My Imaginary Friend is rather stubborn; he has to be, in order to deal with my many insecurities, weaknesses and emotional demands. He is probably not, however, as intelligent as I wanted him to be.
'You'd be prepared to renounce your perfect status of Imaginary Friend to gain a body?'
'Well, it's a heck of a body, my dear. And you'd benefit immensely from it.'
He is not wrong there.
'But in order to gain that body, you'd probably have to mould yourself onto Mr Nice's other attributes. What if he cannot cope with emotional needness? What if he is not interested in what makes you and I tick, share and breathe as one? Do we have affinity?'
'He is sunny and happy. To make things happen effortlessly takes some effort', he answers, holding me by my shoulders. I cannot look away.
'Maybe to make things happen effortlessly you need some detachment in the first place. I don't want detachment. You are a fine Imaginary Friend.'
'But I only patch up real rips using imaginary thread.'
'I no longer have real rips', I say firmly.
'Liar.'
'You see? You know my rips. Mr Nice does not even know they are there.' I lay the trap and he fell straight into it.
'Give me my promotion and tell him about them. If he really is Mr Nice he'll wait.'
'And if you are a good Imaginary Friend, you'll wait too.'
