my body doesn’t belong to me anymore,
it’s not mine, i don’t know
why this is
and i can’t feel the rain anymore
and the sun says he doesn’t know me.
and my ankles hurt

as they’ve not been touched in too long.

my dear, dearly, dearest imaginary friend,
you are not real. i thought you existed in real life, but you don’t. there are hundreds of real versions of you out there, i stole something from each of them and created a you i wanted.
all those letters i wrote to you stopped making sense.
there haven’t been many men in my life, truth be told, there has only been one. i think i took the best and biggest part out of him and mixed him with hundreds of other parts, mixed him with books i’d read, death cab for cutie songs and other people i knew and created you and this has not been fair to anyone, especially to me. but not to you, you are not real and probably, neither is my fear of dying alone one day.

goodnight and goodbye for now, my dear friend.

my dear imaginary friend,
sometimes i’m scared that i might never get where i want to get, that life will not get better than this and there’s nothing left out there for me.
i’m afraid that i’ll look for you when you’ll be 40 years old, and you’ll be happily married, with children and i’ll still be all alone, blaming myself for not meeting and falling in love with you at the right time.

goodnight, my friend.

my dear imaginary friend,
what wouldn’t I give to have tired of you.

my dear imaginary friend,
have you changed your name? you don’t seem to turn your head when i call your name anymore.
i might’ve mistaken you, though, but still.
goodnight to your world, hope everything will one day be as still for you as it is for me right now.

yours truly,
Teodora

my dear imaginary friend,
i’ve only got a poem for you today, by e.e. cummings, whom i used to worship. i hope you’ll like it as much as i do. although our bodies haven’t really met each other, i’m sure that if they ever will, a third world war will start, volcanoes will instantly erupt and nuclear bombs will wipe out everything else surrounding us.

yours truly,
Teodora

I like my body when it is with your - by E.E. Cummings

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite a new thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh . . . . And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you quite so new

my dear imaginary friend,
there’s really no one out there, no one who gives a fuck, or a hug or a bit of their trust.
goodnight.

yours TRULY,
Teodora

my dear imaginary friend,
i’ve thought about you tonight, quite a lot. i realized, that maybe, you don’t want me. you don’t dream of waking up next to me one day and you’re not curious to see me on my worst days, when getting out of bed would be the hardest thing in the world. maybe you don’t. i think i might’ve built everything in my head, may have interpreted everything you said, turning it in what i wanted to hear.
you’re still looking around for other friends, i’m not.
i think…i don’t know what to think. you never say the things i want to hear anymore, you used to, but now you’ve stopped and it makes me doubt everything i’ve built about you so far. i don’t know where i stand.
goodnight, my friend.

yours truly,
Teodora

my dear imaginary friend,
when you have some time, please watch Last night. it’s a movie i just finished watching and i don’t remember last time i cried so much after watching a movie. it was just so incredibly sad. look at Alex and Joanna and how magic the connection between them is.

yours truly,
Teodora

my dear imaginary friend,
one day you’ll get over your past and that will set you free. i’ll be waiting.

yours truly,
Teodora