My imaginary boyfriend is everything I have ever wanted in a human being.

He disappears when I don’t need him.

Into thin air.

As if he never existed.

His hair is blonde and wavy, but not all the time.

Sometimes he looks like Batman when he has his bat mask on.

I mean Michael Keaton.

All the other Batmans sucked.

Once I had a real one. Life was good with him until it wasn’t good anymore.

Now he’s in love with a mediocre poet who dominates men for money.

I find this depressing.

My imaginary boyfriend writes songs.

I sing.