The Unfortunate Truth

I have been searching.  Slipping through the cracks of worlds.

I did not want it to be so.  I did not want to believe that I was right.

The Unraveling exists.  I now know that more surely than I know anything else.  Better, perhaps, than I know my own name, my own face.

When I was little, my parents moved, out of state, to a new city.  It is where I was raised.  It is where I became who I am today.  The person who married my beloved.  The person who helped make those beautiful children.

That city is gone.  It no longer exists.  The Quiet has taken it.  It has never existed.  No one has ever lived there. Where it once was is now farmland, if that.  I suspect the planet is smaller now, than it was, by approximately one small Midwestern city.

I never moved there.  I never became who I am.  I never met my beloved.  My children were never born.  My family never existed.

These worlds, these Earths, are empty to me now.  These iterations met different people, produced different children.  I look upon their lives, and see nothing of what I long for.  Killing them brings me no satisfaction.  Usurping provides me no relief, however brief it may have been.

I am alone, as world after world ends.

I am, and shall always be, alone.