Tonight I've been watching this movie about a woman who meets her childhood imaginary friend. He's a guy, also an adult now, named Michael. Not a bad movie, not great, but best thing on TV right now. It got me thinking about imaginary friends. Now I was an unusual child. I was never like anyone else.
Other people had imaginary playmates that were little girls, like them. Me, I had an imaginary horse. I hid him in my bedroom, and he only came out when we were alone. I fed him, and brushed him, and put big bright red bows on his tail. He was about the size of a small Shetland pony, though I'd never seen a horse in
'person' before. He had a dark brown coat, and a pure white mane. We had many adventures together, but he mostly just slept in a stable next to my bed. He kept me company on long dark nights. I loved that horse, and told him everything, my thoughts, my fears, and my dreams.
I remember the day I decided that we needed to part ways. It was by mutual agreement. I was getting older, and taking care of him was getting difficult. He wanted to go run in green pastures filled with white daisies in the sunshine. So one night, after we'd had a long chat, and said our goodbyes. I gave him a good brush down, tied on a big red bow, and sent him to live with the fairies in the wall.