In many ways I knew him better than I knew you. He came to me when his calls from you went un-returned. We laughed because I wasn't family, but you were.
The moment seemed far away when you'd return home after a year. I speculated why you left, but then I reminded myself the draft was indeed real. We have and had a special something. When the family needed help, I came. When the drive needed gas, I bought it. I can't remember a time when it wasn't me who helped. In my fictitious world, I laid my head next to you at night.
I was really battered by the truth of my forth comings. The truth was not real. Hearing your voice was inside my head.
It helped, for a short period of time. I found comfort in the imaginary. I still do.
I made you up. You were not real. My reality was the man who did not answer your calls.