I was his first friend. I was a figment of his brain's imagination. A figment, so perfect that we almost never fought. He always came running to me with the worldly frustrations of a child, when his ice cream fell over or when mom yelled at him. Nothing he ever did frustrated me. I was a living shadow, where only he could see me and hear me. I always had the right things to say, which was a sight of envy for him. Since he always seemed to say the wrong things to people. What he never understood was that I knew his heart. More than he knew his own, I had seen and lived in his heart in ways he never could imagine. Don't you know, I always had the upperhand.
I remember the countless conversations he and I would enact amongst ourselves. Confrontation was never our forte, but it never stopped us from talking ourselves into it. Maybe everyone always coloured you as this little perfect boy, little did they know your chaotic thoughts that ran through your mind everyday. I always knew he were much ahead of his years, a little old soul. He never seemed to defy authority because he was never one for the pointless little fires. He and I both know, he doesn't own matchsticks. He's more of a flamethrower.
Maybe he's too social to be a wallflower and yet enough of a wallflower to ever be social. Just like me, he like to exist in moments of inbetweens when his heart wanted to exist and live in all moments. His wit and charm is an acquired taste, a taste worth acquiring, just as I am. He knows he's my only friend and loved one and I'm weary to be fading away so fast. But such is this world we live in and my time has come. Change is the only constant while for most parts of our early life we were each others constant.
I know as I watch you grow old, my existence is supposed to fade as you find people are exist in real time. But just thought I'd leave some advice for his world. Let me voice my thoughts instead, for old times sake.
It's been a pleasure knowing him and thank you for creating me. He were the best friend I could ever ask for. I hope when he thinks of me, it'll be nice thoughts.
To the girl who will have his heart, treat him well. He's been waiting all his life for you and know that they don't make boys like him anymore.
To his family, who for the most times questioned my existence and yet let him be, thank you. Know that his kid loves you more than he lets on.
To the rest of the world, be kind to him.
I remember the countless conversations he and I would enact amongst ourselves. Confrontation was never our forte, but it never stopped us from talking ourselves into it. Maybe everyone always coloured you as this little perfect boy, little did they know your chaotic thoughts that ran through your mind everyday. I always knew he were much ahead of his years, a little old soul. He never seemed to defy authority because he was never one for the pointless little fires. He and I both know, he doesn't own matchsticks. He's more of a flamethrower.
Maybe he's too social to be a wallflower and yet enough of a wallflower to ever be social. Just like me, he like to exist in moments of inbetweens when his heart wanted to exist and live in all moments. His wit and charm is an acquired taste, a taste worth acquiring, just as I am. He knows he's my only friend and loved one and I'm weary to be fading away so fast. But such is this world we live in and my time has come. Change is the only constant while for most parts of our early life we were each others constant.
I know as I watch you grow old, my existence is supposed to fade as you find people are exist in real time. But just thought I'd leave some advice for his world. Let me voice my thoughts instead, for old times sake.
It's been a pleasure knowing him and thank you for creating me. He were the best friend I could ever ask for. I hope when he thinks of me, it'll be nice thoughts.
To the girl who will have his heart, treat him well. He's been waiting all his life for you and know that they don't make boys like him anymore.
To his family, who for the most times questioned my existence and yet let him be, thank you. Know that his kid loves you more than he lets on.
To the rest of the world, be kind to him.
To him, take care of yourself. Thank you for letting me exist through you and let that wild imaginative creative mind of yours run free. It was because of this trait, I exist and boy am I glad I do.
- You first friend,
Mr Murf.
PS
Context: Here is a letter an imaginary friend of a boy is writing one last time for the boy's growing old and so is his memory of his imaginary friend, Mr Murf fading away.
I read it as a writing prompt as thought of it as the most peculiar and yet nicest story to write on. Here is what was written; "Your a kid's imginary friend. He's growing up and you're fading away."
So I hope you liked it.
Until next time reader xx
- You first friend,
Mr Murf.
PS
Context: Here is a letter an imaginary friend of a boy is writing one last time for the boy's growing old and so is his memory of his imaginary friend, Mr Murf fading away.
I read it as a writing prompt as thought of it as the most peculiar and yet nicest story to write on. Here is what was written; "Your a kid's imginary friend. He's growing up and you're fading away."
So I hope you liked it.
Until next time reader xx
