“I know you don’t exist,” she said simply, not looking away from her computer monitor as she typed, but still addressing the man who was resting on the edge of her desk with his back to her.
“And yet, you speak to me.” He replied glibly.
“I know you were my imaginary friend when I was really young. Charlie. You were my age then. Somehow you’ve gotten older than me. You’re probably a stress reaction following the trauma I’ve had to deal with over the past two years, some psychological desire to reclaim my past or my youthful innocence. I could probably do some research and come up with a thousand different excuses for what you are, but I know one thing above all, you’re not real. You don’t actually exist. And I really can’t afford to be any crazier than I already am–so could you please go away?”
“You aren’t any crazier than you already are because you are already this level of crazy if that makes sense. And I can’t go away. You’re telling me to, but you don’t want me to leave, so I can’t. When we were really young you would make me disappear in the middle of arguments so that you automatically won, which I still think is incredibly unfair, but it is proof that my presence has nothing to do with my will, but entirely to do with yours. So–if you really want me to go, make me go.” He didn’t turn to face her, so he didn’t see her turn to look at him. Concentrating hopefully, but secretly knowing that he was right. If she really wanted him gone, he’d already be gone.
“Well, are you still Charlie? I mean, it’s been ages, and you’ve somehow managed to age past me. Did you change your name too?”
“I’m still Charlie if you want me to be. Really, I’m your figment, I don’t really make choices of my own.”
“If I know you are a figment, and I know that you are completely of my own creation and not capable of forming your own opinions, then why do I keep you around? What is your purpose?”
“You’re lonely.” Charlie finally stepped away from the desk and turned to look at her properly. “You miss people, but you can’t bring yourself to reach out to anyone else because of your aforementioned trauma of the past couple of years. But I never want to leave, only going when you want me to. And as long as you are alive, I can’t die. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remember all that from when you were a child. And even though consciously you know that it is no longer acceptable for that kind of thing, the little part of your brain that is as crazy as you are really likes the idea, really misses the idea, and really wants me around. So I’m here. I can’t leave because you don’t want me to. So, I think I’ll just have to stick around and make glib comments while you’re trying to do important things, ruin all other men for you because I’m literally part of your brain so that I will become your perfect man, and help you walk your way slowly down the path of insanity until you’ve gone so far that you have to be locked away for your own good, and potentially to get you into a sane head space so that you don’t need me anymore, and I’ll fade away into non-existence.”
She stared at him blankly for a second, before smiling. “Well, as long as we have a plan.” She chuckled, turning to look back at her computer monitor.
“Come on now,” He laughed, coming over to place his hands on her shoulders. “I’m created from your imagination. Of course, I’ve got a plan.”