When A Stranger Asks

I met a stranger.

No.

Scratch that.

I created a stranger.

In my mind he was perfect.

Exactly how I pictured him.

Beautiful.

Dignified.

Smart.

We had a conversation.

No.

Scratch that.

I made up the conversation.

He asked me,

"Do you know yourself?"

I winked, reminding myself he wasn't real.

"I do," I replied.

"Then who are you?" he asked.

He kept his gaze on me, not once blinking.

"Do you ask of my name?"

"No, I ask of your nature."

Then he asked another,

"Have you been a good girl?"

I nodded quite hesitantly.

"How do you know?

"How do you know you've been a good girl?"

I shrugged.

He didn't like it.

I saw him roll his eyes.

"You created me," he stated the obvious.

"I did."

"Did you make me a good boy?"

"What?"

"I am a product of your mind, aren't I? In your head I'm just another character you made up. You directed my personality, crafted my face and body, and made sure I be taller than you. You made my eyes blue because it pleases you. You hesitated with the length of my hair, because you weren't sure. You wanted me to be blunt because no one around you is. You want me to ask you questions because no one ever did. You want me to understand you because nobody does."

"So?"

"So are you a good girl?"

"I suppose so."

"Are you sure?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I don't know - "

My words stopped midsentence.

My word bank was empty.

"Let me ask you one more question."

"Please."

"How do you act around people? Do you act good because it's you, so naturally you want to? Or do you act good because it's the right thing to do, that you have to? When people say to you, 'Be yourself', do you actually do? In the end you only create another version of me to be you, don't you? Someone capable to handle your situation? Life is so much about writing, isn't it? And everyone is an actor."

"What's your point?"

"Have I answered your question yet?"

"What question? You were asking the questions."

"Remember, you created me. I am a reflection of your thoughts. I feel your curiosity. I sense your interest. I know. And I do because you do too. The difference between deciding from your heart from your brain. You, my darling, have always just depended on your brain. You act because you know it's how you should have acted. And that is why your heart feels empty right now; why in the first place, you have created me. Because you're actually very lonely."