He gave me a key.
There was a point in time, about this time last year that someone gave me a house key. Things had happened. A long winded romance had culminated in a rather eventful night out, hotel stay and a dash to Edinburgh.
Someone left someone else for me. I fell out with mum… again and ended up staying at someone’s house. He gave me the key. I flaked out a week later and gave it back.
I wonder a lot about what would have happened if I had kept the key?
I would have been able to come in and out and in and out and in and out. I might have moved in. I might not have left work or bothered trying to make the social efforts I make.
I wonder if there is some sort of parallel universe or scenario running right now about how I had kept the key and how that all played out- like in ‘sliding doors’.
I wonder about that a lot.
It kinda hurts.
And by kinda I mean lots.
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