Tia worked for a prominent magazine, writing articles and stories for the ‘Life Experience’ pages. It was a job she loved and, for the most part, was good at it. Monday morning, as usual, she was given her weekly assignment. The subject was ‘The One True Love’. “Write about your own experience” her editor had said. She wondered what experience he referred to. She sat down at her desk and began to make notes.
Should I write about the sudden, tragic death of my husband, when my daughter was just a baby? Maybe the adoring romantic who turned out to be already married to somebody else? Or perhaps the delightful man, who caught me on the rebound from the ‘would-be bigamist’, charmed his way into my home and then stripped me of everything I owned, my home, my savings, my self esteem… everything, to feed his flagging business and his ego, before taking off with another sweet young thing with her own house and little experience of such charlatans.
Surely this is not my experience of love!
Maybe I could go back further, to the time when my mother handed me over to the state, at the tender age of 6, having passed me from relative to relative since birth, after establishing (a little late) that she didn’t want children. Or I could refer to the years spent in state homes, where I was nothing more than a number to be accounted for.
None of that can be counted as love experience either!
Tia tore the pages off and put them through the shredder. She wracked her brains and searched the internet for clues. Somehow she had to meet this assignment. Most of her past assignments had been challenging and fun but this one was very different. It called upon a state of the heart that she had never truly encountered.
Later that night, tucked away in her apartment, Tia wrote a list of all she had ever loved, whether it be animal, vegetable or mineral. She marked each entry as to whether or not she had been loved back. Suddenly the answer came to her. Toby!
Toby had a fun-loving character, which made her laugh. She had known him for most of her life and they always had fun together. His funny, freckled face, topped with a shock of auburn hair, which refused to be flattened, was always a welcome sight and their friendship was better and stronger than any love experience she had ever known.
They were always there for each other, facing life’s ups and downs, side by side. He was a soul-mate, the brother she never had. When she faced the funeral, Toby was right there, holding her hand. When her daughter was born, Toby was the first to see the baby. When her life was falling apart, Toby helped her to rebuild it.
Even back when she was lost in the crowded state homes, his cheery face would find her and brighten her day.
Oh yes – She loved Toby, and Toby loved her.
On Friday Morning, Tia handed her assignment to her chief editor. He scanned through it and gave her a sideways look. He read it through properly and declared it to be just what he was looking for.
The following month Tia’s piece was first on the page. Hers was the story of the month.
Of course …nobody needed to know that Toby was born as an imaginary childhood friend.
