I write about universes.
Yes , the plural form. I genuinely believe that one universe is too constrained a geography to imagine and write about all my moments with you , so I split them into multiple ones . There is one universe where we were actually together, which led to soaring heights followed by a plunging fall . The other ones are created within my mind , simulations of you and me together in various states of life . They help serve a purpose of creation , fulfilment and eventually extinction.
There has hardly been a time when you’re not on my mind . Sometimes as a fleeting reminder of days past , a vivid imagery during others and in moments of pain and nostalgia drained together like a cocktail trapped in between two melting pots of emotions . I continue on my cycle of creating and destroying universes , identifying them with a unique memory of you , one that has punctured my threadbare heart .
It is in these universes that I see a million colours and a billion dreams , blue oceans and bluer skies , holding hands and knowing glances , a trembling touch and a content sigh . It is in these memories that I traverse over and over again , a lonely traveler seeking out a last gasp of air in my emotional coffin .
Someday , as my memories fade , the universes will stop . There will be a void where once the soul had been , there will be fragmented timelines and cracked pictures , disjointed recollections and long lost happiness coming together and getting lost in each other .
Eventually , the universe will collapse unto themselves , becoming a cosmic puddle holding the last strands of you , my idea of you , my idea of us. A supernova burnt into nothingness , forever and more .
Until that moment arrives , I will do the only thing that seems to be my talisman in chaos.
I will write about universes.