“Maybe we make it in every universe but this one.”

In one universe, we quit school and move to the Maldives. We work at the local beach shack and have our first kiss with our toes tucked in the sand. Your skin is always bronzed and I never have a bad hair day. 

In another, you are a time traveler. You travel to different ages, but still manage to fall in love with me each time. We never complain about the timing. You never get bored of me. 

In another, we’re neighbours. We watch each other grow. From five, to fifteen. You sneak in through my window when my parents aren’t home. You hold me and it feels all sorts of right. We watch the city come alive and pretend the lights are meant for us. 

Here, we dream ourselves a fantasy. Here, the sky changes colour with your mood and the ocean with mine. The day we meet, the air turns pink and so does the sea. We look at each other again and laugh. Nobody except us knows what happened. 

In which you and I play the lead roles in a rom com, and somewhere between the cameras and flashing lights and the music, we stop acting and the love becomes all too real.

In this one, we have a paint by numbers love story. The red vermillion; one blue, one pink onesie; and a white picket fence. We live in a cottage in the countryside and every day we bring each other dandelions and fall asleep to the sound of the crickets.

Your mother never left. My father didn’t quit his job. We didn’t cut each other out, you didn’t cry yourself to sleep, I never took the fall for anyone. And we never forgot how much we meant to each other. 

I am not as reckless and you are not as paranoid and we are actually fucking good for each other. You don’t leave me in pieces and I don’t leave you exhausted. 

Somewhere, we crash into each other during the apocalypse. The sky is on fire and the entire world has turned to dust. We don’t know how long we have until the smoke fully clouds up our lungs. One night, you come to bed smelling of ash and I stay up trying to beat the flames out of your chest. When morning comes, they find our bodies together; burning like the stars we always wished upon. 

In another universe, love is enough. Love is enough. 


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