Sometimes I like to imagine that if something isn’t going my way in this life, then it will be in another one. That somewhere out there, in another life, things would have fallen in to place the way I wanted them to and I wouldn’t be left to feel like this. Maybe it’s wishful thinking. But I just like to think sometimes, that just because you’re not mine in this life doesn’t mean you aren’t in another one.
In this life: We chat casually about the future and plan trips we both know won’t happen and pretend we are fine with the fact that they won’t.
In another life: We are in Paris and there’s just something so beautiful about the way you look in front of the Eiffel Tower. We spend what feels like a lifetime and one second at the same time there. I can’t think of anything more important of being around you right now. It doesn’t matter that it’s a temporary trip. It doesn’t matter that you lost your wallet (shock). It almost doesn’t matter that we have to leave tomorrow. Because the look on your face makes me feel like I’m home wherever we are.
In this life: We text each other about our dreams and they are both about crazy things happening in airports. I miss out the information that I was running towards you after a long haul flight because you are there to pick me up. I can’t bring myself to tell you that I wish that could happen.
In another life: I get the big airport love scene I have always wished for. I’m fresh off a seven hour flight and I want nothing more to snuggle in to your arms. You pick me up at the arrivals area. As soon as I see you my heart fills with joy. I run. And when we get in the car it feels right being beside you. And we are so hesitant to touch each other. I don’t know if I want your hand in my hand or your lips on mine. It’s hard to figure out where to start. We missed each other.
In this life: You move away from me to go to Uni. We stay up talking about how much we miss our old lives and how we can’t believe it all ended up like this. My voice seems to stop working when I want to say I miss you. I want to book a train ticket and come and see you but I’m not “yours” anymore and it would be weird to do that. But I do it anyway. I sit on the train and I am still surprise when you’re not waiting on the other end. I forgot we aren’t like we used to be. You call me and say everything is too much. Too hard. Too far. You won’t tell me what is too hard.
In another life: We sit across from each other at a Pizza Express near your Uni. You have just picked me up from the train station. We try to catch up on everything at once. But there’s too much and nothing to say at the same time. We spend a lot of time awkwardly fiddling with anything in our hands. It’s hard to sit across from you and not know the way the conversation is going to go. I want to climb across the table and bury my face in your chest. I settle for small talk until you blurt out you miss me and suddenly it’s back to how it always used to be.
In this life: When you realise it’s my birthday you don’t text me. We haven’t talked in so long. You write a paragraph and hover over the send button but it’s been too long. Too too long. We wasted so much time. We threw a friendship away. I don’t tell you that I still love you. I don’t tell you that I miss you. But neither do you. Because I felt like I was trying to do the right thing when I cut you out.
In another life: I wake up right next to you on my birthday. We go out for breakfast and I have never felt more loved in my life. You stare at me across the table and the twinkle in your eyes makes me melt. I begin to wonder what I did to deserve to be so happy. So loved.
In this life: We don’t talk anymore. It feels like I never knew you in the first place. I see your life through the pictures on your Instagram. I try to not question who the girl in your most recent picture is. I try not to think about it.
In another life: I’m your most recent Instagram picture. It’s a stereotypical cringey picture and the caption melts my heart when I read it.
In this life: I stay up late another night and wonder why we never said goodbye. I still wait for your call after all this time. It never comes. I try not to think about what that means.