You once told me about a theory you stumbled upon in your journey through self-discovery and quantum physics,
The Multiverse Theory, you said, is the belief that with each collapsing star in this universe, a new universe is created, the exact opposite of our own.
For every war, there is peace.
For every lie, there is truth.
For every death, there is life- all created within alternate worlds just outside of our reach.
If this is true, I'd like to believe that somewhere out there, one of me is loved by one of you,
that somewhere within the veins of infinite dimensions, we are drinking coffee on the roof of a home we built together, and in the morning, we will wake to find ourselves completely entwined in the warmth of each other's arms.
I'd like to believe that a universe exists where we find the happy ending I have been writing about since the first time I heard your voice, or, at the very least I'd like to believe that somewhere out there, your heart beats just a little bit faster when you hear my name,
because within these words, I have traveled through time and space,
and have yet to find you lying awake at one-forty-two AM, drunk and losing sleep over the ending of a poem I will never care enough to read.
A little late night rambling