I like to think that multiple universes are real.
In one universe, I never left Florida.
I never gave up my apartment.
I never resigned from my job.
My life continued on the way it had for eight years.
In another universe, I’m still in New York.
The episode never came.
I moved into my new apartment.
I started my new job.
I made plans for the spring with my family.
In this universe, however, the episodes came.
I resigned from my job.
I gave up my apartment.
I left Florida.
In this universe, I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder.
In this universe, I am struggling with that diagnosis.
In this universe, I left my family in New York.
In this universe, I am in flight mode.
In this universe, I am sitting in a motel room in Mobile, Alabama.
In this universe, I’m wondering what the fuck is going to happen to me.
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