Hey, imaginary friend, I was hoping we could talk about this, you know, face to face, but your face only exists in my head and I don't dare think about how unhappy it's about to look so I'm leaving you this note instead. I hope that's okay; I'm going to imagine it will be.
Anyway, you might have noticed that things aren't really working out between us. The spark that I used to imagine we had is no longer there, and to be honest you don't seem as into me as I once dreamed you were. Sorry.
I've struggled to hold onto friendships with real people since you came into my life, and it's a bit of a shame it took me this long to realise. They told me it was happening but I ignored them, for you, because I cared and because if I admitted you were only pretend then you'd die. I did not want you to die. I still don't, but nor do I want to have to save a space in my bed for you anymore or buy an extra box of popcorn for you at the cinema, just to see it's still full at the end of the film because you weren't very hungry after the meal I imagined I shared with you earlier. The looks in the restaurants have to stop, friend, they have to stop.
So it is with these final words that I must bid you fair well. You are free now, to either be imagined by someone else immediately or stop existing all together. I hope it's not the latter; we had good times together, didn't we?
I will miss them and I will miss you. Good luck. I imagine you will be fine.
