Parallel Universes

Published in Personal - 3 mins to read

Last night I was driving along the coast road, taking the scenic route back from the gym and blaring some Title Fight when I was reminded of a girl I used to hang out with in school. She had a car before I did, so she'd pick me up and we'd drive to some car park and make out for a couple of hours. We never did anything more, because she was very religious, and I wasn't sure what the score was there so to speak, and was too nervous to ask. She was very keen to have a relationship and become 'official', but I always turned her down, citing my mental health - although in reality I just wasn't that into her. It's not like my health was not a concern at the time, in fact whenever she asked me what I was doing I would respond by saying that I was crying, cutting myself and writing depressing poetry. She would always chastise me for it, insisting I "shouldn't make jokes like that", because of course she didn't know that I wasn't joking, and that made it all the more amusing to me (naturally I was joking about the poetry - even in the depths of my teen angst I was never self-absorbed enough to feel the urge to chronicle my feelings in verse). She was lovely to me the whole time, seemed genuinely to like me a lot as a person, and her heart was in the right place. Really, I could've done a lot worse than actually date her.

I found out a couple of weeks ago that she is engaged. At 24, it seems that I am the age where people I know are beginning to get married, and that is deeply, deeply unsettling. Frankly, it's bordering on unacceptable. Nonetheless, it had me thinking - what if it were me that was her betrothed? In an alternate timeline, I was less hesitant to date her, we became Facebook Official, our relationship would've have survived the tumult of university, and we would be wed one day soon (side note - I am still unsure if she would have been willing to have sex with me at any point during this pre-marital stage. If that were not the case, I suspect it would be a deal-breaker for every iteration of me in the multiverse). What else would be different? Would I be happier? Would I have regrets? Would I go full Jack White and take her name?

Perhaps in that universe, this blog doesn't exist, undoubtedly one for that reality's win column.