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The Alternate Universe Where You Stayed
I have a feeling we don’t get another chance elsewhere.
In the alternate universe where you stayed, maybe it’s not Monday at 5 p.m. and I’m not exhausted from waking up at 4 a.m. from a nightmare about you. Maybe it’s Sunday morning and the hangover haze hasn’t struck us yet and we are maybe still a little buzzed off the whiskey from the night before. Actually, we are definitely still buzzed, because we’re laughing at the stupidest shit that wouldn’t be funny unless you were drunk with someone you love.
In that alternate universe, my hair is a mess and so is yours. But for once, our minds are not. They don’t feel so clouded and tangled. Peaceful, I guess. Everything feels gentle and easy. Safe. Calm. Okay.
I guess that’s what I crave the most. To just feel okay again. To feel safe again. To feel hope again.
I don’t know.
Maybe in that alternate universe, we don’t drink whiskey at all. I’m not sure if you’d have the same brown eyes or if I’d have the same struggles or if we would laugh at the same stupid shit together. If our humor would be as dark. If we’d be as dark. Would we work out if we were different? Would I still want you if you were different, if I was different?
