You tell me about a dream you had last night;
How you couldn’t remember it,
But you woke up with a heavy feeling on your chest-
So I know it was about him.
Do you still think about him?
Sometimes… but only before I sleep.
Because you won’t remember it the next morning?
No, so maybe he’ll pass through into my dreams.
You say how whenever you’re in a crowd and you catch his scent,
Even now, you still stop to look around, convinced he’s near you.
I tell you thousands of men must wear that cologne.
I know, but still.
So I ask if you believe in parallel universes, in alternate endings.
Yes, I like to think that whatever I didn’t get in this universe exists somewhere in another.
Then there’s a universe out there where you and him are together?
Of course, of course,
Maybe there are multiple universes where we are together.
Do you ever wish that this was one of them?
But you don’t reply.
Instead, you tell me you think you are too fragile for happiness;
The exhilarating kind, the kind that shoots through like an electrical current-
There’s no other way to explain why I screw it up every time.
I ask if you are afraid of the next one.
Sometimes I think I don’t even want there to be a next one.
You say what you fear most now is to see him on the streets one day, his arm around someone else,
The smile on her face so familiar, it wears almost like home-
I was her once, you know,
I had her smile too.
And what would you say to him?
I don’t know how to talk to him without accidentally letting him know I still love him.
But if he already knew?
In another universe, I might have been happy for you,
If only I could convince myself that you are not my perfect ending.