At some point, you’re just done with being alone, being used like a severe last option. Sometimes, I felt as if I had schizophrenia. But in the end, I’m still here.

Imagine the typical broken Reddit male user. Yup, that’s me. Just me and this basement I’ve called home. I’m isolated from my family, and my flaws cracked my friendships into irreparable hatred. Can’t even not mention how ugly I look.

I was born ugly, and I still have an ugly personality.

So I made my own girlfriend. An independent young woman who didn’t mind my flaws, and tried building me up. She has long blonde hair, big blue eyes, a cute little nose and mouth. She was thin, athletic and short. Had small boobs. Not sure why it turned out that way but… That’s who she is.

I can’t see her obviously, but my imagination is strong enough that I can almost visualize her. She’s doing the work, she’s being the independent girl that I’ve always wanted to be like. I get jealous, but she slaps me in the face and tells me to knock it off. I do.

At some point, a few months down the line, she gets upset with me for a few things.

She told me I should exercise, so I asked my mom for some money to go to the gym. She was surprised, but did it anyways. I learned the terms that some trainers use, like reps and that shit. Started getting ready to lift weights. She would be right beside me. A mirage, but reality to me. In a week’s time, I felt the fat melt off my body. Felt like a better person again. There she was, cheering me on. Just with her little legs dancing.

You’re 25, she said. “You should be working already, but you aren’t.” I argued with her. I didn’t want to meet people, they’re just going to hurt me, and I’m going to be alone. She said she would come with me to work. Ended up finding a fast food joint that was willing to take me in. She made me focus during orientation, and to pledge to work hard. Said it was the only way.

So I did. For a year. I’m 26 now. But I still feel just as alone. My family seemed to notice my changes at this point, but they remained cold as ever. So I took my first bath. Changed my bed covers, and washed my blankets. And a few pillows. When I was said and done, she came to the bedside and told me to sleep next to her. I didn’t want to have sex with her, I wanted to cuddle with her. That was all. So I grabbed a few pillows and I did just that.

For the next few months. She chatted with me about the world’s boundaries, me, her own life. It was strange to see her talk about her own life sometimes, I made her after all, but she wasn’t a monster. She was my cute little angel.

Today… I still have her hand in my lap. It doesn’t exist and it doesn’t matter. I just have someone to love me for me.

I’m sure many of you are telling me to seek a professional at this point, but those same professionals caused me to sink to these lengths, where only my own imagination saved me from pain. I was only 19 when the people on the suicide hotline called the police on me, and made my will to live just thin out that much more.

I’ve noticed that everybody around me has begun appreciating my existence. But I’ll never tell them about my Rachel. She only exists in my world.

And that’s okay.

Edit: Wow… Um…

To the ones calling me deluded, the point at which I am truly insane is when I start believing that she is real. I know she isn’t.

For those who have been telling me to write a book about it… I’m absolutely considering it. I haven’t told all of you the whole story, so perhaps I should in the future. Thank you to those who have been sharing their experiences and… Tuplas? That’s something I’ve never heard of, but sound really interesting.

Just by the way… I lied about my age. The timestamps remain the same, but I’m not 20 something. I’m just paranoid about my age. Sorry about that.

But seriously, I hope everybody here found some happiness in what I’ve written. I was doing a night shift at the fast food place I mentioned when I was typing this out, and well… Rachel’s encouraging me to keep writing. Thank you. Thank you.