“Maybe in another world,” I said.
“Maybe as cats,” You replied.
“You hate cats,” I rambled.
Maybe in another time. In an age and a world where we would’ve hit it off, getting whisked away into this whirlwind romance. Where you knew full well what to make of me and me knowing just what the hell I was doing.
We would fall in love like it was nothing, because all it would be was choosing what was meant for you all along. Loving like there wasn’t even an option to not be in love in the first place.
A world where people would’ve told us we kissed too much in public and we wouldn’t care. We’d hug like we were long lost Siamese twins connected at the hip and your heart would beat with mine when I checked your pulses. A world where your name would sound empty without mine and one where we never forgot each other’s faces, even in dreams.
We’d get awards for how awesome we were at love. Mind you, this is another world, where people get awards for being awesome at love because doing it right matters there. Never mind being the smartest and the sweetest and the most accomplished. The Nobel prize for intimacy goes to you and me.
Nothing else would matter but where we were.
The world would blur by and we’d hop through any humps in the road, like we were just in another one of our adventures. I would hold your hand wherever and you would grasp my fingers like they were long lost from yours.
We’d jump off medical school running straight to our future together, that we wouldn’t even had to plan. We would’ve just known what to do since it made so much sense with you. We wouldn’t take life too seriously but we wouldn’t let life make fun of us.
We’d be in a time where I’d love you like the moon moves the seas and you’d love me like the sun warms the earth. Where I would’ve done my best to show you how I love you, without having had to prove what I could do.
Then we’d probably have a dog there, a big dog that wouldn’t get sick or hungry but would still be real. It’d guard wherever we were, and we’d take it on picnics where we’ll stare at the stars and I’d tell you all about Orion and space dust and stupid things like that there’s a word for the way a person brushes your hair and the extra skin from your elbow. You’d remember, and I’d remember and maybe we’ll even grow old together and forget everything entirely.
We’d forget there were other people other than us, and that there was a bigger world than the space between us. And the only time we would have to ugly cry (like Im doing right now) would be when the movies tell our magical love story like we planned all along, or when we just felt like it, for no reason.
…I wanted it to be you.
…So very badly.
…I did my all and gave my all.
…So that it wouldn’t have to be anyone else but you.
…I loved so hard, and so much.
So maybe, in another world, in another time.