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It had been a difficult road, a constant struggle against loneliness and rejection.
Ever since I was a child, I found it hard to relate to others, and the few who got close to me eventually drifted away.
But finally, after years of effort, I managed to form a small circle of loyal friends.
They were wonderful people, each with their own unique and captivating personalities.
There was Emily, the fun, outgoing girl who always made me laugh, then there was Jake, the quiet, thoughtful guy with whom I could have deep conversations, and of course, my best friend Alex, who was always there for me, no matter what.
But one day, everything changed. My parents, concerned about my apparent lack of real friendships, took me to see a psychologist.
After a few sessions, the therapist looked at me with pity and dropped a bombshell:
-Your friends aren't real, they're just a figment of your imagination.
I refused to believe it at first, arguing that they were as real as anyone else.
But little by little, the truth broke through my mind. I remembered times when my so-called friends did or said things that no one else seemed to notice.
<div class="text-justify"They were my own creations, a defence mechanism against loneliness.
Devastated, I returned to my room and saw them there, smiling as always. Emily, Jake, Alex... all waiting for me.
At that moment, I understood that I had to let them go, no matter how much it hurt, because in the end, the only real friendship was the one I had to forge for myself in the outside world.