I called her Emy. No, not because I named her after Emma Watson or something like that. It’s because of the name Emily. I like that name. You can say that I want to be named Emily but somehow as I look at the mirror…I don’t look like an Emily.
I’d like to think that Emy is short for Emily. Well, I try to make it up in my mind this name is somehow a part from my name. That’s when I look at the first letter of my name… “M”. When you spell the letter “M” (unusual right?), it’s spelled “Em” as far as I know. That kinda faded in into my mind. You just need the “y” to complete it.
So, the name is combination of my name and Emily herself.
Who is she anyway?
Emy is not me—but at the same time…she is. She doesn’t exist in reality, but she is present. Confusing, right?
No, she’s not my alter ego, although, it may sound like it, but she’s not. Do you remember…I am kinda multi-personality? She’s all of that. It’s hard to explain.
She’s me in terms of how I act. Being the nice, spunky girl that I am, well, that’s originally me—from grade school until now. But being the staring into space, quiet, shy, rebellious, hyperactive, different than the usual, that’s…that’s my Emy.
Since I knew I have this kind of person in me, thanks to some psych guy, I wanted to name her…and that’s Emy. I wanted to think that she’s not me…but she still is.
Sometimes, I claim her as my personality. Sometimes, I claim her as some other person inside me. Which kinda leads me to thinking at the end of the day, “Why did I do that?” “What did you just do?””What have you done?”…
But most of the time, she’s in my “perfect world”. She’s in my dreams. She is me in my dreams. How old is she? She’s the same age as me. She can go into different ages if she wants to, if I want her to. She’s a character that I’ve made anyway. She’s a character who’s a part of me.
Whatever I dreamed, whatever I imagine, I am there. But…I have never truly experienced it…it never truly existed. It was just my imagination. It was just a dream. But Emy..Emy experienced it.
My dreams of love, success, desires…everything!
Well, yes…I do envy her. Although, I am her and she’s me. The difference is…she got to experience it, feel it, getting it without so much feel of effort just because it’s through my own imagination.
She always wear a beret. Her hair changes color…always. Blonde, brown, black…whatever I want to…I want her to look like. She’s pretty. Very but ever changing. Her eyes too change. She’s thin, thinner than me. Physically, she’s the opposite of me.
You may know by now that Emy is the girl who I write about in my stories. She’s the girl who gets what I want, what I love, and more…just through my writings, just through my imagination, just through my dreams.
Emy is me. She’s the ideal me. She’s all who I wanted to be.