dreamland

thirty-four

Here we are. Here we are. Here I am. Here I am.

I am still thinking of her so much it seems she is a part of me.
I think she is actually.
Even though it seems odd. So outrageously odd. It's like seeing someone in a tank top during the winter or seeing a glimpse of your father being simply a man who shaved and sits on the couch. It's been a month and a half and even though he is gone and gone just like she is, I still think of them. Even though her absence is bigger and more definite than his.
I see her every single time I look into the mirror that I've just stopped looking into it. I can't even look at my spoon as I eat soup or at the refrigerator after grabbing my blueberry yogurt. It seems silly and I think the silliness will continue on until I die. There is no way that things can be the same.

The same, what does that really mean? Does that not exist either? Just like time does not? But does another world or multiple other worlds exist out there? They have to.
They have to. There has to be a world when she is still alive and breathing.
There has to be a world where she did not meet him. There has to be a world where I did not meet him either.
We never ever crossed paths that day I was late to class.
It exists. I know it does. I know it does.