She has never believed in supernatural things. It all feels like fiction to her. But lately, she’s been lying awake at night and fantasizing about parallel universes.
Most often, she fantasizes that their paths never crossed. In this universe, she still smiles at strangers. She still dreams about love. She has no clue that somewhere, in another world, there was a boy who loved her very much. She is not haunted by the fact that the very same boy destroyed her. She is still so happy.
So, as she stares at the ceiling fan, listening to the clock tick toward 1am, she wishes so badly that she could exist in that universe instead. Because, after all, maybe it isn’t really true what they say. Maybe it isn’t better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. Because maybe never loving at all is far less painful.
— excerpt from an unfinished book #128