I often feel that somewhere along the line fate offered me two choices and without knowing it, I took the wrong choice. Perhaps it was something simple like that day I decided to go to dairy queen instead of Mcdonalds. Or something bigger like deciding to quit a job.

I feel that the other path that lives beside me in a different dimension is the proper path, and all I can do is sit on the sidelines and watch. I picture the other me as waking up every morning and putting on a suit to go to work. He’s well built, confident, has a love life. He’s the perfect me.

I sat outside having a cigarette and gazed at the Calgary skyline and thought to myself, “I love this little life I have”. I have friends, I’m happy, I’m mentally successful, I have what I need, and I’ve never had to go against what I believe. Thats the perfect me.

Sometimes I wonder. My mother had a miscarriage a couple years before I was born. If she hadn’t, I wouldn’t exist. There would be someone else in my place. All my life I’ve imagined what this man would be like (It was a boy). He’d be about 25. He’d be extremely charismatic, and lovable, straight, very smart, very successful. A buisness man. High powered. Friendly, religious, he’d already have a beautiful wife and one kid. Mother and Father think he’s perfect.

Strange as it seems, I feel this other person walking with me through life, and laughing at me in the same way a jock snickers at the geeks. He haunts me and tortures me, because a terrible accident allowed me to be here, and not him, the true person that was meant to walk the earth.

Sometimes though he encourages me. He knows he will never be in this place, and as a big brother he helps me find the train track I’m supposed to be walking.

Thats his path though, not mine, and I struggle, in a zig-zag pattern between the two paths, trying to find home. Trying to decide between societies expectations, and my own desires.

My own id and ego are simply contructs of my imagination. Beings derived from what could have, or possibly should have been. From time to time, these alternate lives seem so real, and I feel so wrong for stealing them away from the world.