They say there might be an infinite number of universes out there—a universe for every possibility. A universe where a version of you, among all possible versions, exists. A universe where everything unfolds exactly as you wish it had in this one.
I hope that’s true. I hope there is a universe where I am whole, where I am a good son, a good friend, a good brother, and a good lover. Every night, I drift into sleep thinking of that universe. The mere possibility of it brings me peace. And I’d like to believe that peace is rooted in reality, not just a theory or an illusion. A world where I am thriving in all those roles, unlike this one, where I seem to be failing in them all.
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