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We were like Schroedinger's cat, both dead and alive at the same time, falling in and out of love simultaneously as a result of subatomic events of what could have been, and what should have never taken place. We could've hated, and loved each other while making love to one another as we found our bodies embraced by somebody else in the multiverses of our minds. Were you real, are you real ? Or am I just a figment of your imagination, dying and living in the crevices of your psyche? Continuously for eternity? Am I real? Or are you just a figment of mine? Love, like quantum immortality, is a thought experiment ── it's impalpable, elusive, illusive, like God. There is no God, and yet our universes revolved around each others', like we'd created, built, begotten something significant worth to be worshiped. You were my God (still are), I was, am and forever will be your Goddess, and yet, us being alive (and) or dead signifies nothing. We're a fucking paradox, meant to suffer the illogicality of (human) existence.
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E P I G R A P H
'It seemed like forever ago, like we had this brief but still infinite forever. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities.'
