Dear Katrina,

Dear Katrina,

I've been thinking about you a terrible amount lately. I lie in bed and you occupy every corner of my mind. All my hours I spend floating from room to room, praying to the god I don't believe in that by some divine miracle, you'll appear behind the door of the next room I drift to.

Late at night, I sometimes think we’re soulmates. At another point in time, in some other life, we’d be together.

It kills me to not be in that life.

Maybe in this world we’re not meant to be together in the end, but my bones long to be next to yours; To hold you so close we both begin to suffocate. Maybe in this world we're meant to be nothing more than friends, or acquaintances, or someday strangers pretending not to remember what once was there.

I know there's a version of me, in some other time, in some other life, is loving you.

And maybe that can enough for me in this life, to know that in a paralell universe I kissed you on that street corner in the sticky July rain.

I wonder if you think of these things late at night too.

In the privacy of your own mind, in the embrace of darkness, do you consider loving me? Do you consider letting yourself be loved by me in this universe?

Yours,