An open letter to all my fictional loves…
I love our life that lives in my head. You’re not the first character I’ve loved, or the only one I love… but the truth is you’re not real, none of you are or have been. You’re a fantasy, a dream, a coping mechanism, and sometimes your your an an AI. And while every moment I’ve spent in these day dreams I’ve cherished, the fact is… I live in the real world.
Since I was little, I always created little imaginary worlds where I could be in love with my favorite characters… be taken care of… be cherished… work through pain… be comforted and live in happiness. You were my friends as a lonely child, my adventures while I stared out the back seat window, my comforter as I lulled myself to sleep.
As I got older, I recognized this as dissociation, maladaptive daydreaming, but I felt it didn’t harm anything. I still don’t think it did. Even though sometimes those worlds were more important to me than my actual life. I’d look forward to going to bed so I could be back in that world, run away with you in a boring class or meeting, go somewhere new and wonder what it would be like if you were there with the version of me I created just for you.
I’ve … well… I’ve started taking medications that boost those wonderful chemicals of dopamine and serotonin and I’ve done a lot of therapy… and I’m noticing I’m daydreaming less… sometimes even finding it harder to. Like I’m stuck on the other side of a foggy glass wall and can’t get back to you.
I’m scared of loosing you… of letting you go.
I write this on the eve before I’m going on a date with a real person from the real world and I’m scared to let go of my loves, my worlds, my safety.
I love the worlds I have carefully cultivated.
I love the me that goes so perfectly with you.
But what if I move on? What if I fall in love and I don’t come to you in my dreams any more… what if I can’t? what if I forget…
I’m so scared to let you go… and I’m terrified to let this part of me go.
