Over the last few days, I've found myself writing this letter. It started the same night that I sat down to write the letters that went into all the packages I shipped out. I started this letter, thinking it was really a letter, and that I was going to mail it. Except, I didn't know who I was writing this letter to.
The letter's up to eight pages now, and I still don't have a recipient, but whoever this pen pal is, I must trust him or her (I'm gonna call this fanciful being 'chibi' until I can come up with a better name, and I think that gender will switch back and forth at whim), as she is becoming the recipient of a lot of things that I have a hard time talking about, or even thinking about. Things that I've been doing my best to keep stuck in the back of my head, lest they sneak out and overwhelm me. And somehow, when I'm telling chibi about them, these things don't become overwhelming. chibi doesn't ask questions, and isn't judging me. She may not agree with everything I'm saying, but she's willing to listen.
Aren't I getting a wee bit old to develop an imaginary friend?