I have some serious problems when it comes to fantasizing and day dreaming about an alternate universe where I got everything right. One where I didn’t loose my childhood, teenage years, and early twenties to insecurities and depression. I picture a different me out there who made more choices for her own happiness rather than letting her parents plan her life, and her letting them do it out of guilt.
She’d be so much prettier than me. She’d be in shape. She’d be more sure of herself. Shed have more friends, and more hobbies. She’d have a career or different interests regarding how she supports herself.
She’d have spent more of the last 25 years smiling and laughing. She wouldn’t have spent all those dark nights crying her eyes out, clutching her chest from the pain, and wishing she were dead. She wouldn’t have spent all those years feeling lost and hopeless. Like she’d never be happy.
I spend hours and days and even weeks at a time fantasizing about her. Because it’s too depressing to face the alternative: reality. That I never was and will never be that carefree, confident and happy girl. That time is already lost. I can’t turn it back. But I wish I could. I can at least daydream about it.
