In Another World

In another world

The lights in the car blind my eyes, making me squint.

In another world, you and I are dancing on a beach, the sand between our toes. The wind tosses your hair in front of my face, making you laugh. The tide suddenly pulls in, splashing your dress, salty waves. Now, we both laugh, staring out into the watercolour sunset I promised to take you to today. Your eyes are sapphires.

The car ride is long. I sit, watching the buildings fly past in a blur as I leave my memory of everything behind.

In another life, I’m down on one knee, in front of the cliff we have hiked all day to reach. The diamond shines in the light, reflecting into my eye and making me drop it over the side of the cliff. I fall over the edge  trying to catch it, but you grab me before I fall. When you pull me back up, I kiss you, and you run a hand through my hair. You always caught me before I fell. Always.

The tie around my neck feels like it’s strangling me. I take it off, and admire the pattern. This was the last thing you ever bought me.

In another universe, I stand at the altar. I see you coming down the aisle, long hair flowing down your back, dress falling around you like fresh snow. You are so, so beautiful. And when we kiss, I feel like my life is really beginning.

I exit the car, standing up straight. Today is finally the day. I will not let any more memories get to me. I will visit you for the first time. I hope you will not be mad.

In another world, I throw the drugs away. I don’t give in. Instead, I come home to you. You’re still asleep when I get home, hands folded over your newly pregnant belly because in another world, I’m a father. I lay my hand on your stomach, letting out my one promise to the child. Never again.

Tom, my best friend, my brother in war, places a hand on my shoulder. I hope you don’t mind me bringing him. He’s helped me, a lot, through all of this. I grip my cane tighter, not looking him in the eye. 

I’m sure you’ll hate me.

I’m sure of it.

In another life, the child is born, a little girl. But when the nurses look at her, they take her from your arms and run out of the room. 

“My baby.” You ask me, grabbing my hand. Your grip is weak. The C Section made you lose so much blood. “Where is my girl?”

I grip your hand back, tears in my eyes. “She will be ok, mi ángel . I promise you.”

We walk over the cobblestones, my hands shaking. I have to stop for a minute. “It wasn’t your fault,” Tom says. 

“I know.” I respond. “It wasn’t Carmala’s either.” 

In my other world, we bring our daughter at home, a family of three at last. We name our daughter Hope. A shining light for the future.

As we get closer, the tears come again. “I should have never taken the drugs. I should never have had ‘Just one more’.”

Just one more is why you left. I will never forgive myself for that. All I can think of is that I am so happy I have been released from prison. Even though I don’t believe I deserve it.

 In a new universe, Hope grows up along with us. She loves the outdoors, animals, and watching the stars. She reminds me of her mother.

And on her first day of high-school, as we watch her walk through the doors, you sink into my arms. “I don’t want her to grow up.” 

I say nothing, just plant a kiss on top of your hair. I don’t want her to grow up either.

We arrive. The flowers in my hand are blue, the same as your eyes, the same as the ocean, the sky. You love blue. I approach, and carefully place the flowers on your grave.

“It’s not your fault,” Tom says again. He hugs me tight. He is right, in a way. I don’t even remember the night it happened.

You and I grow old together, in another life. We sit side by side in rocking chairs, drinking tea, and reading, doing crossword puzzles. And every night, we watch the sunset.

As I kneel down, I place a letter by the gravestone. The tomb I paid for, while I sat in prison. The letter says everything I wish you could know.

Dear Carmala.

I am sorry.

I am so, so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. You warned me all the time, to stop, to get help. I should have thrown them away, I should have gotten a safe driver. But I mean it with my full heart, mi angel, when I say this.

I never meant to kill you.

I never meant to hit you with the car.

I don’t even remember it happening.

I just remember the cops taking me away, and going to court for something I couldn't plead guilty or not guilty to.

Murder, while under the influence. That, at least, shortened my sentence.

I know we had been fighting but I swear, this wasn’t on purpose. 

Carmala, I am so, so, so, sorry. 

Just know that I loved, no, love, you more than anything on this earth. You were my sun, my stars, my day and night, and know that I regret everything.

And, maybe, just maybe, in another world, you and I spent our whole lives together.

I leave the letter there and slowly stand up.  I feel a raindrop hit my head. How you loved the rain.

I know that I have to move on now. Hell, even after being in prison and mourning for all those days, months, years, decades. 

30 years.

I’m still going to find this hard. Would you have wanted me to move on? Or would you, do you, still hate me? I’m honestly not sure I want to know the answer. 

At least visiting you, I got a bit of closure. 

But I still can’t help but think of our wonderful, fulfilled life,

In another world.