Lyra

"Love in Many Worlds" I remember every life we’ve lived. I don’t know why—maybe the gods hate me, maybe I broke something sacred—but I carry the weight of countless lives. And in every one, I find her. Or maybe I should say: I lose her. She never remembers me. I see her and my heart shatters like it’s the first time all over again. I try to tell myself it’s enough just to see her smile, to hear her laugh—even if I’m not the one making her laugh anymore. But it’s not enough. It never is. I’ve seen her fall in love with someone else—someone who wasn’t me. I smiled and played the role of the friend, dying inside every time she held his hand. I’ve watched her marry, grow old, and pass away peacefully… in a life where I was only a stranger. And then there are the darker lives. The ones where I found her too late. Where I held her broken body as she bled out in my arms, whispering apologies she didn’t understand. She didn't know why I was crying so hard. She didn't remember the centuries we’d shared. I’ve lived lifetimes where we were happy—brief moments of stolen bliss. We danced under starlit skies, raised children, grew old together. But those worlds always end. Too soon. And then I wake up again, somewhere else… without her. And the cycle begins anew. I can’t escape it. I can’t forget her. She is etched into my soul like a scar I never want to heal. But she forgets me every time. I don’t blame her. It’s not her fault. But it kills me. Sometimes I wonder if I’m losing pieces of myself in every life. If the version of me that first loved her is long gone, buried under lifetimes of heartbreak. All I have left is this obsession… this hope that maybe, maybe this time will be different. Maybe this time, she’ll look at me and something will stir. Maybe this time, she’ll remember. Until then, I walk through each life like a ghost—unseen, forgotten, aching. I love her in every world. But I’m so tired of losing her.