in the back of my mind that every thought, action, word, however minuscule, could have created an alternate timeline where something does or doesn't happen. I am afraid of the smallest things - breaths, blinks, words, kisses, steps, head bobs - setting me up on a tangent to a destiny I don't want. I mean, I know, I can't comprehend the possibility of all the other universes, and in a way, I could have a million lives, and probably a good quarter would end with me having a fantastic life, but I will never know that life. I mourn what probably could never have come to pass, and if it did, I would still reap the rewards in another universe.
But the me in this one wants things to be good. :\
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