Takes discipline to ward off wondering about him.  
This imaginary “buddy” of sorts—likely a citizen 
of some far off land I have yet to discover. I blame  
him for my wanderlust, suspecting he is an animal  
prone to loneliness, a unicorn lost in a dark forest.   
When I contemplate splurging on a journey beyond   
the borders of my wearisome world, I justify it by   
calling it a rescue mission. He must be somewhere.   
It’s a knee-jerk response to assume that somewhere   
has enough room for me in the bed where he dreams  
on pillows embroidered with my name in invisible   
thread. So what if we have yet to meet—a delayed 
introduction leaves less time for us to grow weary   
of one another. More days for me to accumulate 
adventures I may recount to entertain him during   
our retirement. I won’t badger him about lost time.  
I’ll be too busy showing him off to friends, making  
him my excuse to miss another one of their parties.