He was standing on the porch, listening intently to the birds, yearning for a life he’s never had when all that was shattered by the sound of his name being screamed from inside the house
Me: Tubby! What is wrong with you? The whole neighborhood heard me calling your name
Tubby: I’m sorry, my ears have been understandably elective these past couple of years; they don’t choose to hear the sound of people calling me to talk about themselves and rub their lives in the face of my non-existent life.
Me: Oh my God. I knew I shouldn’t let you watch too many Turkish soap operas. All the drama aside, I’ll pretend you weren’t talking about me and I’ll have you know I’m was calling you to tell you about something that actually pertains to your pathetic, pity-indulgent self.
His eyes sparkled ad he was suddenly interested.
Tubby: Really? What, who, where… Did you get me those new dentures I wanted for my birthday?
Me: Well, when was your birthday again? Never mind. No, not that. Actually someone wants to meet you.
He turned his back again with disinterest.
Tubby: Nah. Who’d want to meet me?
Me: I am telling you someone wants to meet you.
Tubby: Well I don’t want to meet anyone.
Me: Come on, it’s time you came out of that rusty shell of yours!
Tubby: Why, I’m perfectly happy in here.
Me: Please, you won’t regret it. It’s a friend of mine, you’d like them.
Tubby: A boy or a girl?
Me: I won’t tell you, you have to meet them and see.
Tubby: But this is not fair, you know I get curious.
Me: Exactly my point.
Tubby: But why would your friend want to see me?
Me: Because I always talk about you. See, you’re important. And because you have so much influence over my actions.
Tubby: Aha, I see, so it’s all about you again.
Me: No it’s not. I mean, it is but that means it’s about you too because we’re the same person in the end.
Tubby: Well then great, if they met you then they have already met me, problem solved.
Me: Yes but they want to get to know who… what you actually are.
Tubby: Do you know?
Me: Well, I’m not sure. You’ve been quite inconsistent. One day you’re my partner in crime, tempting me to take clearly wrong decisions justifying them with all kind of nonsense, and another day you’re the voice of wisdom in my head. You’re not my ego but you’re not my superego either. You’re somewhere in between.
Tubby: Yeah. That’s what I tell my people about you too. They couldn’t understand it so I ended up accepting being called a crazy man.
Me: Your people?
Tubby: Yes. You see, you too fall somewhere between my ego and my superego but it’s not easy to tell people that you’re a hundred year-old man with an imaginary friend.
Me: Okay, I can ignore you trying to look younger than your real age but I can’t ignore an imaginary figure calling me imaginary.
Tubby: Well, imaginary figures always think they are real so there you go.
Me: You’re insane. Nobody is imaginary here but you
Tubby: If I was so imaginary and you were so real then how come you’re asking me to meet this friend of yours?
Me: Well if you were so real then how come I never met any of your “people”?
Tubby: I rest my case!
Me: No you do not! Case not rested…You know what? I don’t want you to meet my friend or anyone not only because you’re imaginary but also because you’re evil, and mean
Tubby: Well, you could’ve saved yourself all this if you listened to me in the first place when I told you to leave me alone…