There's something alluring about the fantasy of waking up in 2012 to discover everything since then was merely a dream. The weight of years, the burden of fallen tears– suddenly lifted from shoulders.
But then again, do I really want this? The thought gives me pause.
If I erase the years, I wouldn't simply shed my burdens, I'd shed the people who've become fundamental to who I am now. Would they exist in this other timeline? Perhaps similar people might, but the unique interconnected sequences of events will be lost forever. A solar system blinked out of existence.
Would my path have been dramatically different without these experiences? Unlikely. The core of who I am and what I lack would have led me through similar territories.
I yearn for the days when my world used to be as small as Doraemon episodes, as deep as its movies. But the loneliness that sometimes haunts me now almost feels sacred. Even the wounds became windows, letting in light I might never have seen otherwise.
Some dreams are worth remembering, even when they hurt.