I am a traveller. But I have not travelled far enough. No, I don’t travel the distances between cities or countries; my heart is not that of a tourist, though my wanderlust have oft drawn me to detours I seldom expect. Sudden turns of thought, of possibilities, of the imaginaries of parallel realities.
I envy the time travellers— them who glimpse into the past and into the future, whose adventures bring them to the risk of time ripples, time loops, and other chronological disasters that spell doom for our world. They have it big. They have it grand. They offer and teach us hope, perseverance, and all those marvelous ideals. How I wish I can travel through time.
But alas, I can only travel to now— the now of here, the now of there, the now of what could be and that of what could have been, the now of should, the now of countless would. Yes, I am a traveller of ever-growing possibilities, while hopelessly stuck on my own.
“Hi,” I said to you. And in another reality, you would have smiled and said hello. In another, you would have raised an eyebrow and walked away with a cold word. I would have felt joy or sorrow; but it would have been better than seeing you, and not being seen by you. Not even an ephemeral ghost or fugitive shadow— even these would have caught your attention. Me? I am but this entity trapped in between dimensions, trying in vain to phase into the reality where you would laugh and smile and talk with me.
It’s not rare for me to wish I could turn back time to those regrets, kick myself, and hope that would be enough to jolt some sense to change my future. I’ve even caught myself attempting to peek into the future, console myself that all these heartaches, these frustrations, are worth something— of, how do romantics say it, numerous encounters purposely guiding me to some unimaginable destiny. But fate, as consistent in any reality, can be quite cruel. Nothing is too good to be true. Or maybe it’s just the broken device in me that limits me from finding that one world, one reality, where every moment is worth forever.
I used to think forever is awesome.
Maybe it still is, depending on which side or aspect of it you’ll live in.
I can only travel to now, to here, and wonder. Wander through the why’s and what if’s, and somewhere in the misty edges of my mind, maybe there’s a secret I can bring home and unlock that door where I would say “Hi,” and you’d say, “What took you so long?”
Yet now, I still have to find my way there.
Will you be even there?
I can only wonder.