...except when you share it.
At first I thought it was just me. Thinking the way I do in all its sickly cliched overly fantasized pastiche. An over imagination of what I wanted to happen as opposed to its finalised presentation of what actually happened until I stumbled upon the great invention known as the internet.
Therein I found such things as 'fanart', 'fanlistings' and most importantly 'fanfiction'. It was a whole new world. A whole load of 'what ifs' and 'how comes' and trains of thoughts that may, or may not have resembled something similar to my psychology of being a fan. A rainbow coloured world enhanced by the ever omnipresent grey areas in which we all live consciously, or not.
I belonged to a tribe without ever knowing it. A tribe made of paintshop, layouts, graphics, html, wordprocessors, emails, IMs and imagination. A shared collective not unlike the borg, except for that assimilation part where you can't maintain your individuality and coexist among the hive collective with free will. I was no longer alone in the way I thought or felt about a certain plot point, character service or executive decision of who got together with whom in order to 'create the drama'. Instead I thought: 'Why not showcae the drama that comes from being with whom if you're the who?'
Apparently so did others. There was a little corner of the net that believed in 'resolved tension' and found ways to say: 'Hey. People get resolved all the time. Here's what happens after. In my mind anyway.' There was a resounding 'YES!' and 'Huzzah!' emited from my throat which then rapidly truned into 'Hee!'s and 'Squee's in Verdana typeface cos I wanted to be down with my new tribe. So I guess some assimilation took place.
The power of the story could be harnessed by your imagination, your point of view, your right and wrong, your good and bad and your punctuation or version of werds and koreckt spalling. Whatever you wanted to happen happened because you could play in a world created by fantasy and whim and express your belief in that.
So then, what we imagined to be happening in our absence was no longer fanciful than reality.