I don't love you in every universe.
I have loved you in every single second in the timeline of existence, every half heartbeats ever since I developed consciousness and grasped the very concept of love itself.
I have always known how this love would destroy me sooner or later; I was never a liar when I first told you that this would be the death of me. Your absence does not hurt me, your figure in the past does. And as much as I try to walk down the stream, the river keeps drowning me. I find myself no footing whatsoever, the dark waters filling my lungs ever since I lost your shadow in that August.
You are so cruel to me. Or at least, your shadow is. I find you in the depths of my blurred reality, my waking nightmares, the joy of newfound places, even deep down the bottles of drunken, blissful nights. It is never ending, the insufferable torture never enough for my mind to finally stop haunting me with regrets.
Do my regrets amount more than my misery?
I do not believe so.
But do they work well to remind me of the fragmentation of our short lived time together?
I have no doubt about that.
On God, I wish I can start over. But I know more than ever, that I am not deserving of a second chance. I can do everything else my way, but my mind will never let me out of this confusing, agonizing labyrinth.
I know there's only one way out of this, which is never ideal, but doable regardless. But I want to make a conscious choice to not do so every single day, and as long as I have the strength to delay the end, I will do so as much as I possibly can.