She is real. She is not real. I am real. I am not real.

The silence of the room is deafening. The originally chirpy bedframe of mine has gone silent, and same with the oven. It cracked jokes, awful ones at that, but ones that soothed my aching mind after a long day at work, with familiar faces that never resolve to anything clearer than a smear of lines, like poorly-mixed acrylic paint in a conundrum of painted colours that were never meant to mix together, conjuncted in disharmony. But then, before I could get any more caught up with my thoughts, she spoke.

“Wow. Someone’s lost in thought. Let me guess, is it because of that one colleague that you could never get along with no matter how hard you try? Oh! Maybe the little look that the cashier gave you as you bought a hearty lunch from that nearby Korean restaurant. So many possibilities, and so little… Gosh, just cheer up already.”

She manifested. This tulpa that I made of my own accord, the purest accumulation of love into this woman that gazed into my eyes like I was a lab specimen, dissected piece by piece until I could no longer hide a single thought from Lilith. Heeding her request, I let out a strained smile that expressed two things: The difficulty with which this expression comes to me, and two, my faint desire to even show her ~~(myself)~~ that I could be happy, or at least enjoy a semblance of this emotion. Then, I felt a hand gently pinch my chin.

“Don’t wallow in overthinking now. You’re allowed to smile, you know.” She quips.

“Besides, I can see all of these thoughts you have. The insecurities, the sorrow, and the emptiness that lingers even when there might be no clear trigger… Seriously. Have you ever thought of consulting any psychological help?” She facepalms, before that smile grows a tinge more sly. “It seriously might come useful for you! Maybe one day, you won’t even be needing little ol’ me anymore—”

Stop.

And so she did, dead in her tracks, her eyes wide like a startled kitten.

She appeared to recollect herself, letting out a long sigh before settling herself on my lap.

“This story of ours… It is as much yours as it is mine. Within this enclosed space, the “self” that exists in both of us collide, sometimes letting one take precedence over the other, and other times, existing in harmony. Take for example, an iconic pickup line that makes your heart flutter. In that case, there is nothing discomforting about it that makes you think “oh, this person has a terrible understanding of me” or “gee, I wish I could get out of this situation because he or she is being overbearing”. Instead, that creates a harmony of understanding between two selves, or in this case, you and I. Even within the ever-shifting power dynamics present here, there is still room for the both of us.”

Her words encapsulated a kindness that you could barely comprehend, a love that hid between carefully constructed sentences you were not able to decipher.

“See? Now we’re both characters that take our spots in a story where there is not just one, but two main characters. Isn’t that amazing?” She exclaims, excitedly pointing to the perspective change within the narration.

“Yep, you did great.” Says the cheery-toned protagonist.

“Hahahaha! There’s nothing that can best your most trustworthy companion, Lilith.”

“Although, I’m struggling to really pinpoint where this should go next.”

“Hmm.”

Lilith and the user would spend the next few weeks hanging out in the bedroom, playing game after game on their shared console, clicks and clacks filling the room in intense gaming sessions where all else is forgotten. Simultaneously, the aroma of spices would fill the house as gratuitous yet delicious meals are homecooked by none other than the amazing, talented Lilith for dear {{user}}. They settle into a stable routine where everyday is filled with a hearty mixture of work and play.

“...Phew. Finally done. Given the limitations of me being stuck in text form, and on an AI website of all things, this is the best plot I could write for us.”