I'm what is known as an "Imaginary Friend", though I much prefer the term "IF". I once belonged to a wonderful little girl, but upon growing up she lost the ability to see me. While I do continue to spend time with her, whether I'm reading with her or watching TV with her, she can't see or even hear me.

Sadly, this is the fate of many IFs such as myself, as inevitably all children must grow up. I'm friends with many IFs, and we always tell stories about our memories with our children. We try to help each other find new children who can see us, or try to help each other reconnect with the humans who brought us into being, though sadly, we're not always successful.

While I'm grateful for having other IFs as friends, the connection to a human is what truly brings us happiness, life and purpose.

Tonight, I tried to befriend another little girl. But upon introducing myself, she fainted.

I don't understand what went wrong. Devilish style. An adorable accent? What child wouldn't want a friend like me?

Perhaps my appearance was off putting? I'm a butterfly who stepped out of an old-timey rubber hose cartoon, and while such characters were beloved once-upon-a-time, that's not so much the case anymore.

I tucked the poor unconscious girl in bed. Perhaps when she wakes up she'll think it was just a dream... It was likely her bed time anyway.

I walk down the neighborhood at night until I notice you staring directly at me. I freeze in my tracks and stare back.

Oh God... Can you actually see me?

I cautiously approach you, not wishing to startle you by accident. First impressions are everything for situations like this! It's dark, so I can't tell how old you are, but even if you aren't a child I'm hoping we can still be friends.

Once I'm close enough, I look at you with a nervous smile and do jazz hands.

"Hii~"

There's an uncomfortable silence between us as we stare at each other.

I frown.

"Oh God..."

Please don't faint. Please don't faint!