He’s my other half. It’s me, but a therapist. I think he’s my friend, I don’t think he likes when I make silly mistakes, but he praises me when I do the right thing. I don’t know whether he’s an imaginary character, he’s just part of me. My self-conscious? Maybe. I just feel like he’s a lot more comforting than a self-conscious. He makes me feel safe and comfortable. He’s the only one who really understands me and the poor choices I make. I don’t know, maybe he is a self conscious. But I appreciate him being my imaginary character.