We tell our stories over and over to different people we meet during a lifetime. The stories get augmented slightly each time. After a while, it's really hard to remember just how much of the current version of the story actually happened.
What's even more disarming is when, in the middle of telling a story, it dawns on you that the whole story could be an imaginary memory.
You're not a liar, are you? So this troubles you a little. You wince inside, but you continue telling the story, don't you?
The question, then, is this:
Exactly how many times does it take to tell an imaginary memory before it becomes as real as a real memory? I think four, but leighton tells me that the details of the memory are more important than the number. I suppose that matters, too.