In another world, I picked up.
In another world, I still feel you all around me.
And when we look at the moon, we are side by side, laying in a bed, somehow, somewhere.
In another world, I’ve felt your breath on my neck. I know what it’s like when you touch me. I probably memorized the trails that your fingertips trace.
In another world, I know your kiss. We stretched out and intertwined our fingers, held hands instead of holding back. We knew each other.
In another world, we were more than passing glances. We were fireworks, tangled in the sheets, my hand wrapped around your length, your fingers tumbling over me. We were sunlit, in the grass, with your dog licking our faces and the places that our bodies met. We were so much more.
In another world, I got to hear your breathing, not muffled by a wall. Harsh breaths, before your ******, and softer, longer breaths after you came, levelling out into a smooth rhythm that I feel under the head that I laid on your chest. The breath of your laughter, choking and unbound, no longer limited to the small smile that you used to save only for me. Maybe that’s all I’ll ever get to see in this life, but somewhere else… I see more.
We were comfortable in a way that I never knew. In another world, we’re still comfortable, safe in each other’s arms, soothed by the words we exchange through the phone.
In another world, maybe we got married.
I feel it, the choking in my chest. It’s the feeling of constriction that comes when you meet the one that could’ve been your soulmate. And you are my soulmate, in another world.
I wish I was her. I wish I was in another world. I want your touch, your kiss, the feeling of your heartbeat fluttering under my lips. I want you. Almost.
Goodbye.