We weren't meant to work out

In a parallel universe, maybe we grew up together.

Maybe we were neighbors.

Or we were in the same primary class. Maybe you would hold my hand during class, or blow me kisses in the hallway, to be later reprimanded by your mother.

When we were 8, we'd meet on the street adjacent to our houses, and we'd ride our bikes up and down the street, laughing as we'd almost run into each other. And afterwards we'd race up and down the dirt hill behind my house.

As we grew older, into our teen years, we'd lay on the trampoline in your backyard, laughing as we pointed out made-up constellations.

I would've been there for you when girls broke your heart, and you would've let me cry on your shoulder when boys broke mine.

I would've been the friend that you called when your anxiety got bad, or your parents were fighting, and you needed a confidant.

Maybe, somewhere in those confusing years, is when we would've fallen in love.

You and me, walking home, hand in hand. My parents telling you not to keep me out so late. You apologizing, but giving my hand a squeeze saying that it was worth it. My younger siblings adoring you, jumping on you and swinging from your neck whenever you walked through the front door. You'd be invited over for family dinner on a regular basis. My mom would think you're hilarious, my dad would love your motivation.

You'd go on your mission, and I'd still be here, two years later, waiting.

You'd meet my grandparents, and my grandma would fret over how skinny you were, and my grandpa would find someway to embarrass you. My brothers-in-law would ask when you were joining the family, and we'd laugh it off, answering with snarky comments, but really we'd both be wondering the same thing.

When you finally popped the question, it would've been just the kind of thing that perfectly defined us and our relationship.

We would get married young, by some standards, but it would be just perfect for us. We'd struggle to make ends meet, as we tried to follow your dreams, and to follow mine as well. But no matter how hard it got, we'd still love each other, still want to make it work.

Can you imagine how adorable our babies would be? They'd get my nose, your eyes. They'd get your drive, my creativity. We'd take them to the park and watch them run around on their fat little legs, bringing dandelions and pebbles to us with grins on their faces, proud of their finds. We'd cuddle up on the couch with our 5 little sleepy kiddos and watch the same Disney Movies we'd watched when we were their age, reminiscing in the years we'd known. We'd climb into bed at night, exhausted, but so in love with the little family that we were raising.

We'd get old, your hair would start to fall out, maybe mine would too. Our kids would grow up, move out, and cause our remaining hair to go grey from the stress of it all. But we'd still love each other. I'd still look at you every morning and think that you were the most handsome man that I'd ever met. Because you would be.

We'd celebrate the milestones together. 25 years, 50, 60, together. Not many couples make it that far, but we did.

We'd make it through everything, every fight, every poopy diaper, every distressed teenager, because we loved each other. Our end goal would remain the same, our love would become somehow stronger, and we'd last through it all.

Sometimes I imagine a world, only slightly different than the one you and I live in now. I imagine a world where, this isn't just a line of thought, but it's a reality. It's a world where we worked out.

But it's not.

That world is a few tracks off from the one you and I are living in.

We are not in that world. You are not with me. I can imagine, for a few blissful moments, that it's so. And those 10 minutes of fantasy will be beautiful. But then I'll wake up, return to the real world, and face every day without you, knowing what could've been.

The truth is, we weren't meant to work out like that. You weren't meant to grow up down the street from me. My grandma wasn't meant to fuss over you. You weren't meant to have a strong bond with my little brother, and an even stronger one with my baby sister. You weren't meant to live out your days on this earth with me.

You were meant for someone else.

Maybe you and I could've survived through the coming obstacles. But maybe not. And maybe that's the sole reason that life didn't play out like this, that life took a drastic track change, out of the blue. Because for some reason, I'd have challenges you couldn't help me with. And there were things that I wouldn't be able to help you with. And we'd both have to struggle independently. And that's not how a relationship works.

I know that that's not how things worked.

I know that this is how things are working now.

I know it, I just have to accept it.