Leonard lounged languidly in the worn bergere chair, his brilliant silk robe draping to the floor, it’s edges gathering dust and neglect. In a sense, the once pristine fabric mirrored his own state of life, luxurious yet forgotten. The only visitors in recent days had been his mother who came to watch him paint, and the doctor, who spoke for a dreadfully long time about foreign sanatoriums and medications. Not even the servants bothered to clean his room anymore, as it seemed the world outside had forgotten about the unsound boy. All except one individual.

But, could it be considered an individual, Leonard wondered? While he was fairly well read for a boy of his age, not once did any text state what exactly was an alien. For all he knew, his new friend could have been multiple individuals. Perhaps, even, an individual was something reserved solely to man kind.

“Such annoying thoughts” Leonard grumbled, dropping his paint brush on the cheveret and clasping his forehead. It made his head ache, to ponder so hard on the existence of his friend. It had spoken to him of many bizarre things such as different worlds and creatures, all which sounded out of a fantasy. So persuasive was it’s nonsense, that Leonard occasionally questioned if he really was mad.

Leonard ignored the bewildering thoughts that besieged his mind and picked up the brush, continuing his painting of the showy magnolia that engulfed his view from the window.

Scarcely had he begun the first stokes of paint when the window swung open. The alien, which had chosen to take the form of a young man this time, jumped from the window to the cold wooden ground of the bedroom.

“I see you have chosen a more conventional guise this time” Leonard said, grabbing the aliens freezing hands and helping it up. Though he had grown accustomed to these daily visits, Leonard had yet to witness the aliens true form, and likely never would. Instead, each day it came with a new form, something he was likely to recognize.

“Yes indeed. It proved quiet difficult to open a window as a cat” the alien responded.

It paced around the small room, once, then twice, until it eventually stopped by the locked door.

“I see that family of yours still won’t let you out” it stated, it’s melancholic voice ill fitting the youthful face it bore.

“They think I’m mad. It’s partly your fault, to. No one believes your real, and I suppose I stopped trying to prove it so.”

“That’s a cruel thing to do to your kin” The alien said. Leonard wondered in that moment if aliens had families as well. By the way his friend looked, if they did, there was no happy story behind it.

“It’s because they love me. They are concerned for me and my well being, and that is nothing short of their love.”

“Should love make this circumstance better?” The alien asked, raising an inquisitive brow.

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“Love is humans greatest mistake. If anything, it would make the circumstance worse.”

“What do you even mean by that?” Leonard asked.

“Think of it boy. It’s impossible to intentionally fall in love. Therefore, it is always a mistake.”

Leonard sighed. So did the alien. Perhaps even the room sighed, exhausted by their conversation.

“Well then, it’s a beautiful mistake. A mistake I plan to repeat as many times as I can.”

Leonard thought to himself how exhausting loving many would feel, but he didn’t say it to the alien. His petty need to be right had him saying all sorts of foolish things once again.

“And what do you find so beautiful about love?” The alien asked.

Leonard parted his lips to answer, and then promptly closed them again. What was so beautiful about love? There were endless sonnets and tankas, painting and novels searching to find that answer. And yet, the answer was still as vague as the question.

“For myself, I find the beauty of love in the fantasy” Leonard responded after a long silence. “Only in romance will you find the wonder of a story. Only in family will you find warmth in the winter. Love is something that even reality cannot restrain.”

“Such frivolous words.” The alien scanned over the pile of books that mounted the bed. “You do know, fantasy and reality cannot exists together.”

Defensively, Leonard shot up from his chair, craning his neck to look at the alien in its eyes. “What do you know about that? I don’t suppose a being such as yourself has felt the kind of mortal love I’m referring to.”

The alien laughed, a hearty sound that made him seem close to human. “Though I’ve lived long enough to understand what you humans perceive as love, I will never grow old enough to understand how the smartest minds delude themselves over a fantasy of it.”

“You say that, for you have no heart.”

“I do have a heart. But it beats to logic, not feeling.”

Leonard considered what kind of existence that would be. “Life would be far too boring if humans thought that way.”

“Indeed” the alien agreed. “That’s why I’m so keen on observing humans. Compared to my species, yours is endlessly more entertaining.”

“A pity I’ll have to entertain you another time” Leonard said. He opened the window, letting the smell of April rain fill the room.

“Don’t go about falling in love before our next encounter” the alien stated jokingly, moving one leg and then another over the windowsill. “I have yet to learn how to comfort a broken heart.”

“Oh piss off.”

With their farewells, Leonard was left staring at his half complete painting, his mind adrift once again.

He hated humans twisted definition of love. How it came hand in hand with sorrow and sacrifice. But just as equally did he hate the aliens way of love, which was nonexistent.

Instead, Leonard decided he would love the way the stories loved. The way a mad man loved, unbridled with a fervor that would rival the most extravagant of fiction. And when the first glimpse of reality would intrude upon his fantasy, then, and only then, would the love come to a speedy end.

Such a wonderful way of love, Leonard mused. He hoped the alien would approve.