My imaginary friend

I know she can’t see me. I know it but it still hurts. Even when nobody was there I was with her holding her hand as she grew up. Sometimes she was alone and sometimes she had others to stand by her side. But no matter what, I was still there. She knows who I am even if she doesn’t always know I am there. She created me, and her imagination is the only thing keeping me alive. Once she is gone, so am I. I walked in with her on her first day of kindergarten. I was there on her seventh birthday when nobody showed up. She told me we had to stick together until the end of time. But here I stand holding her hand as it slowly slips away. When she let go, the warmth of her hand lingered. I saw a million memories flash before me as the feeling of her hand slowly dissipated to nothing. “We did it. But now it is time to say goodbye.”