"In another life?"

Was it wrong for her to feel life's weight? To lie awake at night and stare? To feel everything and absolutely nothing? To lie heavily in a bed that wasn't hers? To exist in a bedroom that held no love, passion, or warmth? Or an atmosphere with no happy memories, no thoughtful trinkets, and no trace of the man she was supposed to love? To view a mess of children's toys as a potential argument? Or to clean for the third time in the day just to keep herself busy? Was it wrong to stay late at work, hoping dinner would be ready when she got home? Or to worry when her husband was short on his patience and the kids were crying? Was it wrong to feel this way when she had what most people desire? A providing husband, beautiful children, a wonderful house, and a nice car? These luxuries were gifts, so why did they feel like a weight? Why did she long for something more?

The morning was supposed to be slow and happy. Coffee for the parents and pancakes for the children. It was supposed to feel present, whole, and dreamy. But warmth didn't follow as her husband stalked out of the bedroom, his tired eyes glaring at the energetic children bouncing around the house. The present feeling was absent as he moved silently through the kitchen to retrieve the makings for coffee. She was isolated. He was distant. He did not greet his wife lovingly. He merely asked if the kids were packed for the weekend.

Did she do something wrong?

Did she not try for him? Give him children, love him despite his attitude and behavior? Did she not satisfy his needs and be there for him? No. She did not. She played the wife and mother role perfectly.

 Only when she stopped trying, when her true feelings started to show, did his temper plummet.

The weekend was supposed to be perfect. 

The kids were singing in the backseat, their favorite song on the radio. The mountain scenery was beautiful, and the car was full of gas.

Then came the rain and the thunder. The road was slick, tires slipping with no traction. The children screamed, arguing over their iPad while their father turned up the radio to drown them out. When that didn't work, his booming voice suffocated theirs; his harsh words cut too deeply for a scenario that required only a minor correction. Something inside of her snapped. 

Every argument, every ounce of disrespect, each threat and cruel gesture that had broken her spirit and numbed her heart. She lashed out, cursing his name and behavior. She called him a bad father—a bad husband. 

He took his eyes off the road for a second. Only a second.

The semi came from nowhere. Maybe the universe sent it. Time seemed to slow in the next second. Was she terrible for seeing the headlights and feeling at ease? To see her husband's panic and feel triumph? And as the windshield shattered, was it so terrible that she prayed she didn't make it? To pray for her children but not for herself? Would it be selfish if she left them behind and finally sighed in relief? Time resumed. The car slammed to the side. Her eyes blurred, her head throbbed, and warm liquid trickled from her head before white slowly engulfed her vision.

 

 
 

Heaven was beautiful.

It had been a long time since she was happy, but heaven wasn't what she thought it would be. 

It was like watching a movie. A movie of her life. She was young again, late teens probably. Her younger self was sitting alone in her room; the faint voices of her family arguing downstairs were her parents. She remembered promising herself she wouldn't be like them. 

She saw herself dialing someone on her phone. It rang once before picking up. She knew who it was even without hearing the voice.

Her best friend. 

An ache filled her heart. She didn't know if it was from sadness or from longing.

"Hey Cass." 

"Evie?"

It was longing.

 "I need you."

 She forgot that's all it took. 

In the blink of an eye, the girl climbed through the window. She could still hear her parents screaming downstairs. Glass shattered, but it seemed far away now. She watched as her best friend climbed into bed with her younger self, the two of them simply lying together while chaos destroyed the house downstairs. Eventually, her younger self started to cry. Her friend wiped away those tears before they climbed out the window and sneaked out to face the night head-on. 

The vision shifted. Memories played out like a montage. Countless hangouts at the nearby skatepark, long walks along the railroad tracks. Talking about everything and nothing important at all. Beach trips where they camped out for the night, dancing around the fire pit. Simple memories warmed her chest the most, especially when the two of them grew closer. Quiet nights when they studied in silence, shoulders lightly touching while in bed. A Halloween party where she met her now-husband. She saw her best friend watching her younger self talk to him. She seemed so irritated by his presence. 

As the season grew colder, she watched herself growing closer to her 

best friend. One winter night after sleeping over, she watched her most treasured memory unfold. Her best friend- her partner in crime and life- confessed to the romantic feelings she had, offering her favorite flowers as a gift: pink tulips. Despite the cold, the room felt warm and full of life. 

Younger her reciprocated these feelings. The years that followed had never felt so bright and happy. The glow from her younger self radiated onto her, and she could almost feel the joy she used to have. She was so...lively. So happy and light and free. 

She loved this girl. The only person she had ever truly allowed into her heart. 

But as the memories played through, dread slowly crept into her veins. She knew where this was going. She tried to close her eyes, to fast-forward or look away, but heaven wouldn't let her. 

When she opened them again, she stood beside her younger self. Her best friend- her girlfriend- the girl she loved was sobbing. 

Her family had found out about the relationship. They were forcing her to end it. If not, they'd kick her out. Left with nothing. 

She was too afraid to choose the girl she loved, to stand up and fight for them.

She shut her eyes and covered her ears as tears stung her cheeks.

Why did she pick him? She should never have picked him.

Gentle hands cupped her cheeks, thumbs wiping away her tears. Her eyes opened. The memory was gone, now replaced with an empty meadow. 

"Evie? You okay?"

She choked down another sob. "No, Cass. I wish I stayed. I have never felt happier than when I was with you."

Her love smiled. "You could join me." 

"...I can't. My kids..."

"They could've been ours. I would've loved them just as much as I love you." 

Visions of a life she didn't choose flashed through her mind. A life with her girl, her kids– their kids. It was happy. Bright.

"I wish I didn't pick him."

"I know." Her thumbs wiped away more tears. "In another life?" Her love asked.

She smiled slowly. "I'll pick you next time."

The vision faded slowly, like petals blowing away in the wind. Her eyes closed, and her body drifted into peaceful rest.

 

 

Her eyes opened again. She was not in a meadow. She was in the hospital. 

Blinding light filled her room, revealing get-well-soon cards and flowers. Some were from her kids, some from friends. Her eyes drifted over to the windowsill, her heart nearly stopping. A single pink tulip rested peacefully, a silent promise and the gift of courage. 

Live this life to the fullest. In another life, we will be together.