Most people...

...see me as the kind of guy who always seems to say the right thing at the right time. Sometimes smart, sometimes witty, sometimes funny, all the time well said. They think I spend my days reading, thinking, contemplating the world and observing people. I'm middle of the path, never make a wrong decision.

Sure, that's part of me, but the real me remains a child playing with toys and imagining a world outside, or even inside my reality. As a youngster I played with Legos, but I didn't just build things, I created universes. My Lego planes had pilots with names, ranks, individual voices and characteristics. My Legos were drenched in spit from my constantly making machine gun noises and the like, but also from my mock stories, full dialogue with consistent characterizations.

My stuffed animals were much the same. One of my favorites was a tiny panda with a Santa hat that my Ate Margie gave me. It had short hair and was constantly covered in lint and drool (from me sleeping with it) and I named it Furry (I guess in a sort of primitive ironic sense, given fur was the last thing you could call it's covering). I could have conversations with hours with Furry, my mother would observe the fluctuation in my voice when switching characters.

One might imagine a mature college student to have outgrown these stages but, alas, old habits die hard. Sure, I've gone from changing the tone of my voice to changing my accent, and I've ditched the toys for imagining arguments between a gangsta-me and a douche bag or imagined myself talking with Genghis Khan, but I'm the same kid, sitting in my old room with my eyes closed in another world.

Now, I've found a woman, and you might think I'd drop it for real but, again folks, old habits die hard. Fortunately these habits need not die, because I've found a woman with an imagination just as rich, if not richer. We each brought a favorite stuffed animal to school this year. Hers: a black panther, mine: a huge bottle-nosed dolphin a la sea world. Neither had names, but upon arrival they became Isabella Esperanza (Izzy) and Samuel (Sammy). At first they just adopted the names we had thought of for possible children (don't judge, you all do it too!), but they soon became much much more.

They became little kids, perhaps how we were when we were children, or perhaps how we imagine our progeny to be, but they became real, they became ours. Izzy is the sassy older sister, independent, strong-willed, ready to joke, but equally ready to lend a helping hand. Sammy is the easily influenced younger brother, sensitive to Izzy's snaps but friendly and protective of family.

It didn't even end there, a tiny origami crane smaller than my pinky nail became Rily, a tiny younger sibling whose name stands for Reza I Love You. An ugly origami frog became Hippity, and a smaller, but much cooler looking and jump-able origami frog became Hoppity, a favorite playmate of my girlfriend's through boring lectures. An origami mouse became Bonafacio the reading mouse, his time spent folded up in books as a place marker has left him with an endless knowledge of the world and hunger for all things book. Hell, we even have a retarded child with no name, a green balloon I stole from JMU's clubhouse, that somehow still has air in it despite being months old.

I once received a phone call from my girl when I was with family. She asked me who was taking care of Izzy and I told her, "It can take care of itself, it's a cat." Without even thinking, I had given into my fear of being ridiculed. Just being around people who could possibly judge me had compromised my character. I realized it too late, I listened, seemingly in slow motion, as the words slipped out of my mouth but too late. She hang up, agitated and annoyed.

I love them, I really do. They're as much a part of what makes me me as my jokes, my computing, my gaming, my writing, my education, my friends, my family, and especially my woman. Oftentimes I'm confronted by how silly it may seem to others, how crazy I might look, but fuck it. I've made the mistake of dismissing them as mere child's play, and I'll never do it again, because I'm nothing without my imagination. I won't abandon Izzy, Sammy, Bonafacio, Lt. LegoMan, or even retarded green balloon just to fit in.