It's another one of those nights when nothing connects and nothing pleases. I'm floating in a soup of gloom and anxiety. I can't sit still but I don't want to go anywhere. I'm empty but nothing will fill me up. My mind is a tilt-a-whirl and I am about to throw up. Vague ideas are circling around the center of my befuddlement. Each thought defeats the last, and none can stand long before they are torn apart and devoured by the masses. There is one thought that will not die. This immortal thought is the one I wish could be destroyed. She is a memory.

Annez.

She was perfection. She was confusion. She was a dream in my head made flesh, and I didn't know her. She was lighting, striking fast and fading away. She was beautiful. She was ugly. She was joy. She was madness. I loved her, and she scorned me. We met quite abruptly. I won't bore you with the details. Suffice it to say, we clicked instantly. We met in a bookstore, she passed me in the New Age aisle. The first thing I noticed about her were her eyes. She had a devil's look in her eyes. I saw trouble in her eyes and I liked it. The air around her shook with her vibrating aura. I liked her instantly because I knew she was probably as messed up inside as I am.

At the very first, we lingered near eachother. I snuck glances at her, trying not to be too obvious. The second thing I noticed about her were her clothes. She had thrift store chic, worn out jeans and a kid-print T-shirt. All her clothes looked well-used, including her ratty Converse All-Stars. I liked this about her, because it indicated that she wasn't obsessed with outter appearance. Her shoulder-length brown hair had a slight sheen, I could tell it hadn't been washed it in a couple days. I liked this also. As I checked out the various Tarot decks available, I peeked over and noticed that she was looking at the Satanic Bible. This was when I decided to make my move.

"I've read thru that book," I said.

She seemed to not hear me for a second, then she turned to look at me. "Huh?"

"I've read that," I repeated. "Pretty interesting stuff."

"Yeah," she said, turn the book to look at the cover. "I've read about Satanism on the internet. I was actually disappointed when I looked at the Church of Satan's website. I expected the Prince of Hell, but instead I found the Prince of Pseudo-Diabolism. Anton LaVey was a lyer and a plagiarist, did you know?"

"No."

"He was a fuckin' poser. Not that I'm one to talk. I'm don't worship Satan either."

We talked over a cup of coffee in the cafe area of the bookstore. She liked all the same bands and movies that I liked. She had the same views on life that I did. She hated the same things that I hated. It was like I was talking to an attractive female version of myself. There were enough differences to keep me interested, but all the similarities to make me feel secure. She was robust and outspoken, confident and fearless. She was literally my dream girl.

Our relationship started pretty quickly. She opened up to me, sexually and emotionally, within the first week I knew her. It was like we had been waiting for eachother our entire lives, and everything went perfectly. I seriously thought I was dreaming most of the time. We spent a lot of time alone, just the two of us. We were both very anti-social, so we decided to be loners together. Our relationsip was everything that I wished for. It was like my wish was being granted, that God took a girl out of my imagination and built her and sent her to me. I was very happy, and I knew it wouldn't last forever. I knew we would break up eventually, even though we always talked about staying together forever. I just didn't know that when our love ended, it would be so weird.

"There's something I have to tell you," Annez said one night as we lay in my bed, after making love.

"You're pregnant?"

"No! Unless Trojan lied to us. No, seriously. Did you ever think it was weird how perfect I am?"

"Why worry about a good thing?" I said.

"I mean, I'm everything you've ever wanted, right?"

"Yes. You are." I kissed her.

"Isn't it weird that I like everything that you like?"

"No."

"Doesn't it seem a bit odd that we think exactly the same way?"

"Why should it? We're soulmates."

"No, we're not."

"What are you talking about?" I asked nervously.

Here it goes, I thought.

"I mean, yes. We are soulmates," she said. "But not in the way you think."

"How, then?"

"I am you. You are me. We're the same person."

"Yeah .... "

"No, you're not understanding me. I'm not real. I don't really exist."

I laughed. "If you don't exist, then how can I have sex with you? Am I just whacking off in reality?"

"No," Annez said. "When we have sex, you ejaculate not because of physical stimulus but because of the illusion of physical stimulus, like in a wet dream."

"So ... " I said. "You're a living wet dream?"

"Yeah!" Annez said. "You're getting it!"

"You can say that again!"

"I'm serious!" Annez said.

I laughed, but the look in Annez's eyes made me consider two possibilities: one, Annez is really a figment of my imagination or, two, Annez is flippin' mental.

"You're crazy, right?" I said.

"I'm not crazy!" Annez exclaimed, hitting me. "I'm a hallucination! I'm not real! You made me up in your mind! To be honest, you're the crazy one!"

I laughed again. "Fine then, hologram girl. Prove it!"

"Alright!" Annez said, sitting up. "I know everything that you are thinking because I am in your mind. Think of a word."

"Okay ... " I said.

"Cat!" Annez said without hesitation. "I'm right, right?"

She was right.

"Need more proof?" she said. "In second grade, you had a crush on a girl named Jessica who was in the grade above you, and she was totally stuck up. Ever since then you've had a thing for girls who ignore you."

My mind was blown. She didn't even try to summon the knowledge like a psychic. She just knew it. She knew it because I knew it. I was shocked, and I wasn't about to believe that she was a figmant of my imagination.