“Because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it is not there” her words were etched in his mind. His mother was lost in the dialogue of her imaginary friends, while he, as her child, never questioned the validity of her conversation. Childishly there were times he desired his own friends to join that world. It has been always hard for him to understand her reality. She was the victim of her mental sickness, but he always thought his innocence was the only victim. He grew up like that, confused about the world he could not see.
As a child, each character reflected on him. To his mother he was a character, happily knowing that there were others, not as real as him, but that was not important since he accepted them unconditionally. Although the choice wasn’t his, he thought he did his best. After all reality and imagination are inseparable childhood best friends.
He was used to walking around the empty house engaging in full conversation with his mother’s invisible characters. They were his childhood stories. His preferable play was hide and seek. To him the game was neither abstract nor real, but as a child he had no time to analyze its validity. His mother’s imaginary characters would appear and disappear quickly. He had to move fast and discover places that he had never been before. Suddenly the house would take dimensional shapes that he would have to resolve in his mind. The play would stretch sometimes until midnight. It was an epic game between him and the invisible. A team made with him, his imagination, and his mother’s hallucinate mentall characters.
“Because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it is not there” his mother would say over and over. He tried harder and harder every time he played. Nevertheless, he never understood why he liked that game so much that he would play it with no hesitation. Neither he would find anyone hidden, nor anyone would seek him. He would count numbers from one, two, three, ten, nine, and back to one, often. That’s how he learned it and he did his best to make a fare counting. Although the rule was “there is no rules”, He would make his rules since his mother would never participate, although her characters eagerly did. His mind would travel to the edge to find places to hide. He had become the master of treasure hunt. He would find a paradise of details and objects that others would ignore. There were chocolates and candies everywhere, coins and even strange objects. For years he had collected photos that he had never seen before. To his surprise his face was not to be found but his mother’s face was everywhere, smiley and young. She was different there. He wandered if her imaginary friends could be visible in any picture. The desire to recognize their faces was unbearable.
They were part of his mother’s life and unconditional playmates to him, yet he had never seen them. At times he questioned if they were people or children like him. He learned to love them through years. The feelings continued even when they suddenly disappeared following his mother to eternity. The replication of such friends was impossible without his mother. The emptiness was never filled. It took years for him to understand his mother’s condition and realize that his mind could not invent such things. The inheritance was mutated. He wasn’t sure to be happy or sad. One subject he was sure of; the things he did for love. After all was love itself invisible? “Because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it is not there”.
