To whom it may concern:
It’s all a farce, you know. There’s just no tactful way to say that. You’re nothing more than a whisper, a shadow, a figment of imagination buried and then exhumed from the back of my mind.
But you’re more real than I am, far more honest and true. At least when you say or do something, there is no ulterior motivation that you hide from me – no hidden meanings or misinterpreted actions. I mean, I’ve created you after all – your thoughts, feelings, and emotions. You can’t hide them from me or pretend to be something you’re not.
You are who you are, and I know who that is. So even if you are a farce, I think I’m glad you exist. You make me a better person… somehow.