I have this kind of weird obsession with alternative timelines. I find myself wondering if I’d just spoken to someone instead of someone else, where would that have brought me? Who would I be now if I’d have been part of a different friendship group - if I hadn’t moved house. It can’t be a very healthy thought process, focussing on what could have been, as I’ll always be wanting the knowledge of something that I can never know.
There are so many situations that I think of: what if I’d not started my blog, what if I’d walked the other way down the street, what if I’d been a bit more courageous those times?
Who would I be now? Would I even recognise myself? Would I even like myself? Would I still have the same friends I have now?
After contemplating the triggers of my alternate timelines, I construct what my life would be like. My friendships, relationships, house, school, room, clothes. There are so many things that could have turned out differently, but didn’t, and lead to the point in which I now live my life and the person I have turned out to be.
As much as I contemplate my alternate timelines, I tell myself to stop yearning for what could have been. It’s not good for me; I should learn to live in the moment.
But I can’t help wondering: what if?