Everybody knows that everyone is someone. But what only some people know is that everyone is actually someone plus one. We are never alone. We all have another someone in our heads. They may be a different size, or race, or age, they may take different sides in arguments. They make different decisions. Their lives go to other places. They are the ones who didn’t get made because it wouldn’t have made sense. We are the ones that fit in. We are the livers, the lovers, the fighters, we get to eat and shop and sleep and they get to watch. They know they are there, and really, we do too. If we think about it, we talk to them sometimes. We take long, hard looks at them and think, ‘No thanks.’ What we need to remember is why they are where they are. These someones go by many names, they don’t get the privilege of only having one. One is easy to remember. One means something. My someone has been called Pierre, Princess Annabella, Doctor, Huff and Madam. Currently we call her Boo Hoo. Boo Hoo doesn’t care for friends, or food. She wakes up too early, or too late. People stay away from her because she stays away from them. She never calls on anyone because, she says, they do not want her to, and if they ever called on her she would say so little they would never do so again. She looks down when people she knows walk by, instead of up. One Christmas Boo Hoo ran away to Heaven so she wouldn’t have to thank anyone for their presents and have them not believe she meant it. Ha Ha is a very different someone. Ha Ha drives at one hundred and thirteen miles an hour at all times. In fast lanes, in slow lanes, when parking. Ha Ha makes sleds out of duvets, puts garden snakes under pillows, pushes friends into rockpools, spits at strangers from rooftops and then hides before it hits them. Ha Ha is my lover’s someone. And you see, if Ha Ha and Boo Hoo had ever been made instead of us, had ever come to meet, something very important would have never happened.