I’m not kidding. You think that I gave this blog post a provocative title in order to grab your attention. Well, I didn’t.
Okay, well, maybe a little. If I was being honest, the title would read “My Ex-Uncle Killed My Imaginary Friend”; however, that seemed too long!
When I was little, I had an imaginary friend. It may have been why my parents decided to give me a sibling, maybe they thought I was lonely. Apparently having my sister wasn’t the answer, as my imaginary friend hung around longer.
I’m sure I had lots of fun with my imaginary friend, we probably went everywhere together and played dolls together! We shared secrets and a bath tub! We climbed the fence to the neighbors and jumped on my parents bed!
Then, one day, while visiting my family, my uncle took my imaginary friend and threw it over the balcony and killed it.
I never saw my imaginary friend again.
Now, to be fair. I don’t remember my imaginary friend, I have no clue if it was male or female – or even what I named it. I also don’t remember my uncle killing it. So, I probably wasn’t traumatized by it too much.
But, considering how much of my childhood I don’t remember, maybe I was. Maybe I’ve learned to just block everything out all because my uncle killed my imaginary friend.
Have at that one Freud!