'There were spaces between Donald and whatever he said. Strangers had forced him to live in his head.' John Prine
Got to thinking the last couple of days about peoples imaginations. Mine, and those of friends and acquaintances. Some folks have them, others not so much.
I live most of my sexual fantasies just in my mind. I have a vivid imagination, so I'm told. Oh the places I've been, me and Dr. Suess. That said, I don't have an imaginary friend.
A coworker of mine, by all appearances (or lack thereof), had an imaginary lover. She shared details of this relationship with those of us in the office. The whole thing was a secret from his family. She was a goy. His mother would not approve, so they had to keep things on the down low. He lived in another state and would fly in some weekends to be with her. No one alive known to me ever saw this guy. She was/is a special kind of crazy.
Had a bud in college. He lied so much and so often that, behind his back and to distinguish him from several others we knew with the same first name, we added 'Bogus' to his moniker. He told us all once that the GF was coming to town for a big holiday. We all saw him several times that weekend. She was always somewhere else, visiting so and so and so on. Then she left town.
