We come across a myriad of people in one lifetime. People who we are able to seamlessly intertwined with while others seem to fade into the periphery of our mind, almost forgotten but not quite yet. Some remain as regrets – as what if’s and as reminders of that hopefulness that exists in every one of us. Do you remember yours? Your could-have-been-lover, that almost-person you thought was so right but somehow, never could manage to get to that happy ending?
In a parallel universe, we would be lovers. I would be the nut to your bolt, the impulsive ball of emotions that eggs at your controlled, meditated ones. In this universe, we would be easy and comfortable with each other. You wouldn’t feel like metal braces that pains me with your obsession of perfection nor would you be a song with lyrics – demanding for an audience, a response; you would be my favorite movie soundtrack. We would laugh over ice-creams and peanut butter milkshake, you wouldn’t care if I weighed heavier yesterday or tomorrow, you would understand life’s more than beauty capped in an hourglass figure; women are supposed to look different. In this universe, we would be more reckless with our lives – we would travel everywhere and anywhere with a tight budget; you would listen to my amateur attempts at educating you about art history. You would surprise me with museum tickets just because I love them, and even though you can’t be bothered with clambering up a thousand-year-old monument, you would do it just because I want to. And I would understand when you have your private time – you can game your health away into the wee morning and I will still greet you with a kiss when you wake in the afternoon and prepare lunch for you. I would get it when you prioritize sleep over me, or that having promised someone else something before me meant that I will have to wait in line to spend time with you. I would even concur and just laze with you at home because traveling is not your thing; I would give up moments of that ecstasy for you because what you want matter too.
You see, in this universe, we would be easy because we would get the bigger picture, and we would get each other. Our fights would be short bursts of 100m sprints; our attempts at understanding each other buffered by the fact that we were best friends first before lovers, we have ran the full marathon already. There is no need for fake sweeteners of loving words; instead, we can be honest with crass words said with mutual respect and love. I would understand your needs as a man with varied life philosophies, and you would understand mine as a woman with idealistic dreams about life – we would fit in a way nobody else could have, and amidst one fight after another, we would have great make-up sex and understand the need for someone to challenge you, not complete you because love isn’t just about the manual guides or the soft-whispered words meant to shield, it is also about making you into a better person. In that other universe, we would actually be soul mates, our destinies written in the stars.
We come across a myriad of people in one lifetime. At the end of the day, some will matter more than others and there will be a few that matter that most. When we have put down our guards, stripped ourselves to the most vulnerable and raw, who then would you have allowed to be closest to you? Who did you open your heart to?