I miss the giant. I knew he wasn’t real, just imaginary, but he was important to me.
We were living in Hawaii, shortly after the first time my brother – whatever. I began to imagine that a giant would come to visit me. He was really big, bigger than our house, but he could make himself small enough to fit in my room. He usually just sat on my bed and talked to me.
Sometimes we played a game. I would pretend I was in danger, he would pick me up and carry me away to a safe place. Sometimes he let me just sit on the palm of his hand – sort of a “bean bag” before it’s time - and read a book. If I needed to hide I would lie down and he would cover me with the other hand. I could see out, but no one could see me or reach me.
But the very best thing he did was hug me. Sometimes it was because I was sad or scared or lonely, but often it was just because he knew I needed him to. He never got mad, even if I was crying. I would stay as still as I could, with my head against his chest, and listen to his heart beat – it was a really big heart. We would stay that way for hours. When I got sleepy he would put me to bed and sit on the floor next to me till I fell asleep. I know by then I was getting a little old to be having imaginary friends, but I really needed him at the time.
The giant stuck around for a few years, but I guess he was a Hawaiian giant because he didn’t move with us. I didn’t realize this until we were at my grandparents house in Indiana. It was the night after the first time my grandfather did what he did. Everyone had gone to bed. My bed was the couch in the living room. I couldn’t sleep – I was too scared. I spent most of the night listening for any sound that would tell me my grandfather was coming. I tried to call the giant, but he wouldn’t come. I knew he had left me and wasn’t coming back and I was so sad. I mean really, if you are such a looser that your own imaginary friend won’t or can’t show up to protect you, then what chance is there that a real one will? (Just kidding, sort of)
We were living in Hawaii, shortly after the first time my brother – whatever. I began to imagine that a giant would come to visit me. He was really big, bigger than our house, but he could make himself small enough to fit in my room. He usually just sat on my bed and talked to me.
Sometimes we played a game. I would pretend I was in danger, he would pick me up and carry me away to a safe place. Sometimes he let me just sit on the palm of his hand – sort of a “bean bag” before it’s time - and read a book. If I needed to hide I would lie down and he would cover me with the other hand. I could see out, but no one could see me or reach me.
But the very best thing he did was hug me. Sometimes it was because I was sad or scared or lonely, but often it was just because he knew I needed him to. He never got mad, even if I was crying. I would stay as still as I could, with my head against his chest, and listen to his heart beat – it was a really big heart. We would stay that way for hours. When I got sleepy he would put me to bed and sit on the floor next to me till I fell asleep. I know by then I was getting a little old to be having imaginary friends, but I really needed him at the time.
The giant stuck around for a few years, but I guess he was a Hawaiian giant because he didn’t move with us. I didn’t realize this until we were at my grandparents house in Indiana. It was the night after the first time my grandfather did what he did. Everyone had gone to bed. My bed was the couch in the living room. I couldn’t sleep – I was too scared. I spent most of the night listening for any sound that would tell me my grandfather was coming. I tried to call the giant, but he wouldn’t come. I knew he had left me and wasn’t coming back and I was so sad. I mean really, if you are such a looser that your own imaginary friend won’t or can’t show up to protect you, then what chance is there that a real one will? (Just kidding, sort of)
