You’ve heard of the multiverse theory. Infinite worlds and versions of you. That.

I used to think it senseless, and that if true, wasn’t it more likely for those worlds to be random rather than permutational? A world with clever dust rather than one where I wrote the word “dirt” instead of “dust”, or one where I missed a comma.

As of a few days ago, I’ve changed my mind. I no longer hate the idea. Maybe there are more worlds out there. A world where I had eggs for dinner instead of breakfast:

Maybe I didn’t break Maria’s heart in that one
Maybe we had kids
Maybe I went to a different school. Born elsewhere?
Maybe I stayed home
Maybe my favorite teacher stayed
Maybe I chased my love for art
Maybe I lived in another place
Maybe I didn’t disappoint you that evening
Maybe you didn’t say that thing
Maybe I took better care of my parents
Maybe I had cats
Maybe I was taller, shorter
Maybe I was a different color
Maybe I was more confident
Maybe I wrote books. Sang songs
Maybe I drove a bus
Maybe I was the same
Maybe I was more successful
Less successful
Maybe I was an asshole
Maybe I was nice
Maybe I ate too much
Too little
Not enough
Maybe nothing matters because it all happened
Is it happening now?
Maybe in that one I wrote better
Write better
Maybe I took a left turn instead of a right
Maybe I went to the hospital
Maybe I died in a plane crash
Maybe I sold ice cream
Maybe I was a liar (More than now?)
Maybe I never quit
Maybe I was happy
Maybe I was at peace
In peace
Maybe I had a house
Maybe we got to know each other
Maybe we played together
Maybe I told stories
Maybe my child didn’t die in that one