MY IMAGINARY HUSBAND



When Marcy was about 3 years old, she had an imaginary friend named Charlene.  Since we were somewhat enlightened as parents or had some common sense, we knew to play along with her.  After all, she was an only child and probably enjoyed the company of another child, even if it were an imaginary friend.

Marcy was adamant that her firstborn would not be an only child because of the suffering she endured as an only child.  Being the center of attention and having a Mother with razor-like focus is challenging.  But I have to admit it; I do adore her.

She now has two children. The firstborn does everything he can to ensure he’s the center of attention while his baby sister patiently and with an all-consuming sweetness quietly observes (!) her brother. Unfortunately, when he’s not seeking attention, he gets it anyway because he’s often climbing, aiming his wagon at his sister, or in general, up to no good.  I’m not sure Marcy has accomplished her goal of having two children since the first one requires constant attention, but we’re all happy about it anyway.

Charlene went everywhere with Marcy.  When Charlene didn’t want to go wherever the rest of us were going, Marcy let us know about Charlene’s objections from the back seat.  A simple vote was taken to determine whether or not we went.  Even though the final vote would be two versus two, age trumped, and the adults won.

Fast forward thirty-some-odd years from that time.  Although I’ve been through countless failed relationships, I’ve finally found success with an imaginary husband.  I don’t know why so many relationships have failed. I must confess that I’m the one who ended each and every one. I’m not proud of that fact.  Perhaps I didn’t choose the right partner, or I’m afraid of a lasting, committed relationship, or I never figured out how to make love last. Still, there you have it…a complete failure in the relationship department.  I suppose making a conscious decision to not get married over the past 20 years has at least meant no more divorces.  At least, I deserve some credit for restraining myself from marrying again…until recently!

My imaginary husband is perfect.  Like Marcy’s Charlene, he’s a loyal companion, and I never have to be alone if I don’t wish to be.  My friends love him almost as much as they love me and permanently save a seat for both of us when we meet for dinner, a drink, or a concert. I never have to worry about feeling like the third wheel with my couple of friends because he rounds out the foursome nicely.

We have a repartee that is unparalleled. I love his brilliant wit and compassion. He also knows when to be quiet…thank God.

He puts the toilet seat down.

We have similar tastes in politics, movies, religion, music, exercise, food, and TV shows, but we’re not so much alike that we don’t have vigorous discussions periodically.  After all, if we agreed on everything, it would be boring, and I would have to ask for a divorce.

Best of all, we love each other.  Fortunately, it’s not the all-consuming, dependent type of love we all experienced when we were younger, but it’s more like the feeling you get when you put on clothes that fit just right, and you know you look great.  We just fit.  We’re the handsome couple everyone so admires.

I wouldn’t recommend imaginary husbands for all my single friends because many had very successful marriages.  While they might be physically alone, they aren’t alone in spirit.  They cherish the memory of their loved ones, and that’s enough for them.  They consider themselves fortunate, and I agree with them.

One thing I forgot...I’ve yet to give my imaginary husband a name!  I may have exhausted all the names.  One thing is sure; I know I exhausted them!😇



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