The [Fucked Up] Love Club

This is another blog post about Kyla's life but to minimize the volume of its vanity, and well, for a change, I'll be the one unfolding her stories and adventures.

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Dylan McKelsy.

And I am Kyla's imaginary friend.


Hold your horses because you’re in for a ride. 

You know when you catch yourself hearing a little voice inside your head? Consciously, you know it’s you but if you listen closely, it’s not you at all. Like a whole different person. And that’s what I am. I’m a voice inside someone’s head; Kyla’s head. She hears me whenever she’s alone with her thoughts, reading a book silently or each time she’s reconsidering pasta for dinner. 

I always say yes. Pasta is delicious.

Kyla had me for as long as she or I can remember. Our relationship happens entirely inside her head. Although occasionally, when she talks to herself she ends up talking to me instead. It just happens naturally; she doesn’t even know it until I call her out and that’s when she stops talking because every time I prove than I'm right apparently annoys her. She hates me for it but tolerates me nonetheless. 

Apart from holding out (confidential) conversations with her, I am also the main source of her, as she likes to call it, "brain farts". I don’t get any credit for it, but I completely understand. Both of us wouldn’t allow her to appear more insane than she already is.

(I can’t tell you what I look like because even I don’t know that. I am a template so you can envision me however you want.)

For a long time she stopped seeing me. In the past three years I only show up maybe once every six months. When Kyla’s alone with her thoughts she either runs to me or shuts me down. And whenever the latter happens, she does all these crazy impulsive decisions. One time, she spent two full hours inside a public restroom crying over her “problems”. 

When that happens, ironically this mental relationship we have keeps her grounded.

But not for long. 

It looks as if she didn’t want to be with me, so both of us decided that I should, well, leave and finally moved on from whatever we had. I didn’t want to exist in her life anymore, and she obviously did not want to exist in mine. 

I mean, who am I kidding? I'm imaginary! 

A few months later, there I was trying to enjoy a cup of coffee in whatever European country she put me in. (I was hoping Paris because it's a pretty city.) It was, I don’t know, nine in the evening, and I couldn’t help but hear this fucking screaming in the back of my head. It was agonizing—like a broken record but all the lyrics are muffled and painful to my imaginary ears.

Next thing I knew I wasn't in Paris anymore. I was.. somewhere.. dark. This time the noise inside my head stopped. But I heard something else: weeping. Someone was crying. A girl. My eyes adjusted and I realized I'm inside a room; Kyla's bedroom. 

Weary and looking a little pathetic, she was curled up in one corner of the bed.




happened to you?

Frankly, I had no idea what was going on or why I was there. The whole night was filled with her crying and staring at nothing. I do know that she knew I was there because that's how this entire thing works, okay? I can't just be summoned and expect to be ignored. She did that for a few days and I was.. observing her. 

She was doing all sorts of things. She was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. 

I had to put in a lot effort to snap her out of it. There were times when I had to think for her. Because for some odd reason, someone else was doing that for her and two people in this head is already a crowd. Three makes her lose herself. 

And not in the Eminem kind of way.

When things started to mellow down, she slowly acknowledged my..

.. existence.

Whoever was nestling in her head isn't part of this club anymore.

It was safe to assume that she’s doing all right after all her drama. Man, if you think it’s miserable to look at a friend suffering and not knowing what to do, then I’m telling you right now that knowing what to do but being fictional hurts more. 

The fact that she surrounded herself with good people was a humongous help. If you happen to be one of those folks then hello and thank you. You are a hero. And well, you're a real friend. 

Get it?

Of course you do.

In spite of everything, seeing her growth was a heartwarming decade-ender. I'm proud of her. Maybe 80% of who she is is actually based on me but, hey, I couldn't care less. I'm chill. I'm fine. I'm still with her right now but maybe I'll leave.


Or not.

I don't know.

Unrelated to everything I just said, I am not sure how to end this so I'll do this quick and smooth:


Representing the club,


Gut Feeling by Peter Bjorn and John
LOVE. FEAT. ZACARI by Kendrick Lamar ft. Zacari
Mr. Know-It-All by Young the Giant
I Really Love You by Gibbz
Carry Me Away by John Mayer


  1. Dylan sounds awesome! And you have been great lately. I love you.

  2. Keep fighting the good fight! Will always be here for you, sunshine. ��

  3. Replies
    1. Thanks for being a real friend! I love you :)

  4. I heard a magical 'disappearing' sound followed by a giggle in my head when I read "Poof." Was that you? Hahaha


Post a Comment

Like what you read? Support me!

Popular Posts