Dearest Claire,

I am writing to say goodbye. I am not coming back. Sell my
CDs, burn my underwear, and kill the cat. It's not because
of you. You know that I love you, and that you're the best
fuck I ever had. Do you remember the highschool bathroom? Do
you remember your old bed, with the creaky springs? And then
your mom yelling at us to keep it down? ;)

You're always so noisy, in everything you do. Screaming your
lungs out when you're so fiercely happy, or if things don't
go your way. I like it when you scream. It cracks open the
shell of the world.

I also love it when you talk to me. They think that you
can't talk at all. They think that you're crazy. They don't
understand that you're just lonely, so lonely that parting
with your words would make you really crazy. You always told
me that I was different, that I kept your words intact. But
you were wrong, and the therapist is right. I am just as
hollow as you are.

Please don't be lonely. Scream, my love. Scream all you
want.

Love,
Your Imaginary Boyfriend