Believer in Equality

Tangents / take two

What if, in another universe, I deserve you? Hear me out. There’s this philosopher from the 1890s named William James, and he coined this theory about “the multiverse” which suggests that a hypothetical set of multiple universes comprises everything that can possibly exist simultaneously. Are you following? The entirety of space, time, matter and energy is all happening at once in different timelines: It’s the idea of parallel universes. Right? So okay, let’s presume the multiverse is real. Well then, maybe somewhere in those infinite universes is one, or several, where I deserve you. Maybe there’s a universe out there — happening now — where we end up together and when I close my eyes at night, I’m not dreaming the way a normal person would. Instead I’m seeing flashes of our lives in the multiverse. They’re not simple dreams because I miss you, right? They’re scientific, anachronistic visions. For instance: In this universe, I don’t want a family, but maybe in another, I’m more of the type to settle down. Maybe there’s a universe where you hold my hand while I give birth to our daughter in a white hospital room with pink flowers and fuzzy teddy bears on the window sill. Where we take family vacations and pose for dorky pictures in our neon bathing suits on the sands of a Florida beach. Where we curl up to watch a cheesy movie at the end of a long day in our big, green, suburban house once the kids have fallen asleep. Maybe there’s a universe where we are middle-aged and taking our child to college and bickering over where to put her dresser or what posters she should hang up. Where you kiss her on the forehead ‘goodbye’ and we drive home in contented, proud silence, your fingers grazing my knuckles, our wedding rings glistening. Where we both have gray hair and we laugh and smile and hug and drink lemonade on the porch. Maybe there’s a universe where that’s the life I want. Where I don’t second guess everything and I’m not afraid of commitment and of the future and of love. Maybe there’s a universe without all the noise in my head and the pride that makes me so fiercely independent and the coldness in my heart that I can turn on and off like a security fence. Maybe there’s a universe where I’m the right person for you. Where I adore every nice thing you did for me without starting to resent you. A universe where you actually end up with someone who appreciates you. Where no one becomes a doormat. Where both of us can shed our baggage and curiosity and issues. A universe where we’re happy — without wondering if that happiness is some messed-up Jenga game ready to topple at the slightest quiver. A universe where we’re comfortable and sure, and we have cats. Maybe there’s a universe where we fall asleep next to each other every night like spoons, like two innocent bunnies — my face buried in your neck, hugging your warmth — and we both don’t want anything or anybody else. Where we don’t want more, we just want each other. Maybe there’s a universe where I don’t covet so much all the time and where I’m content and where I don’t wonder about picking up and moving to Japan without saying anything to anyone and where at this very juncture, I can just know I’ll always want to come home and cook dinner with you. If you think of it all this way, then it’s like neither of us did anything wrong. You just found me in the wrong universe. That’s all. This is, as they say, the darkest timeline. Everywhere else, nay, “everywhen” else — us in the Civil War, us in Ancient Egypt, us in the swinging ’60s — we are happy. If this theory holds, well, by the law of averages, there had to be one universe — just this one — where we don’t end up together. Here and now just happens to be it. If you think of it this way, nothing is our fault. So see, that explains everything. We’re not together anymore because of the multiverse. Well, isn’t that comforting? If you’re sad, do like I do and just think of the other ‘verses. The ones where I believe in love and where I don’t hate myself and where I never feel the need to kamikaze relationships. A universe where we can have nice things. It’s helpful, right? Because you could have loved me forever. And maybe in another universe, I let you. — Maybe In Another Universe, I Deserve You, by Gaby Dunn (via tywin)

Dark Obsessions

A POEM ABOUT THE BEGINNING AND END OF LOVE, AND HOW TO DEAL WITH WHAT’S IN BETWEEN

Everything We Could Be by: Kylyn Abat (K.A.) (in other words me) Look, I get that we aren’t together. I get that we probably never will end up together; that you’ll never love me as much as I love you; that you’ll never look at me the way I gaze at you; that you’ll never understand how it feels to be so deeply and completely and utterly immersed in someone else that is only willing to take a tip toe in the shallow waters. I get it, it’s fine. I mean, it’s not, but I’ll be okay. I mean it’s not my lost. You know why? Cause I lost someone who never loved me and you lost someone who was in love with you.  You lost someone who would have been willing to run to the ends of the earth if you asked them to. You lost someone who would’ve felled cities, waged wars, died a million lifetimes, and lose everything they had for you.  You know what sucks? You complain about your shitty boyfriend/girlfriend, about your self obsessed crush, about that person you like/love so much, saying how they never appreciate you and will never love you enough right in front of my face. Like, hey, I’m right here, you know? I could love you. I could be enough.  I would have shown you the beauty in the world, because you were not only beautiful, but made the world around you beautiful. I could listen to you talk about anything and everything and nothing for hours, days, weeks at no end, rambling about nonsense and everything that makes sense. I would cheer you up, make you smile, because if there’s one of the things you weren’t made for, it’s for frowns. I would always be by your side, more loyal than any dog or pet. I would always have your back, side, front, or any angle you might fall from. I would always be right there for you, ready to hold you when you fall, ready to put you back together when you break, and ready to shower you with love and affection when you needed it. Do you realize how goddamn amazing we could’ve been? How absolutely breathtaking our existence would be around each other? We could touch stars, hearts, and souls. We could jump and fall together, knowing we’ll catch each other before plummeting onto the hard ground, and if we do miss, we’ll help each other back up. We would always be silly and serious at the same time, laughing and crying, living and dying, loving and maybe hating. We could be together. I could deserve you and you would deserve me. We could have chances, do overs, and second shots. We could have mistakes, slip ups, and wrong choices. We could have tears from laughing and crying, and painful cheeks from smiling and frowning. Most importantly, we could have each other. And I would have my world. We could look at each other and see the endless and infinite possibilities of the universe. Heck, I look at your eyes and I see eternity resonated in them, I see the galaxy reflected in your orbs, swirling mist, dancing planets, glowing stars, burning suns, dying black holes, exploding meteors. I see you.  But, no. That’s not the path you chose.  You look into my eyes and you can’t even see a single star. You let us crash and burn before we could fly. You let us die before we could live. You broke our promises before they could be made. Made apologies for mistakes yet to be made. Hated someone before you could love them. You let everything we could be, become everything we are not.

I haven't written a poem in a long time, but it just happened randomly just now. It makes no sense but enjoy.

You’ve hurt me. A thousand times over. Yet here I am Lonely again Giving you everything Everything you decided to destroy You’ve mutilated me I’m bitter With every compliment I receive I think they only want one thing You did this And I let you do it Over and over Again

Life can pull you out into the sea of stress, the cold unfamiliar feeling of being neck deep. but my love, realize with each breath the sea lays further down till it’s hands sliver around your ankles. The reflection shows a face you’ve seen before. Smile, the sea already has enough tears.

I woke up to see everything was exactly the same, not a hair touched, doe-eyed, with voluptuous lips waiting for a memory deferred. But I have grown cold to the touch. I’ve passed through lovers lane to see if something was amiss,the void holds close to every fold in between. Brown eyes way out in the abandoned drive in. A light hums through the uncomfortable silence. The screen had been torn through after the perilous plunge of flight 23. The remains read, ” the worst part, was that I had to change, because I can’t bare to give anymore.”

Night drifts in from day. The curtain of fog ripples away. A light hums from across the street, eyes gaze to see the delicate beauty before me. Gentle green eyes stare in such a way, each breath pulls closer. No word is left unsaid, as hands clasp to one another. The moment felt as if it lasted a lifetime, I opened my eyes to only see you were still right there holding my hand.

he’s like fire and he’s like ice and he’s everything