“Maybe in Another Life”

by Christian G.

Maybe in another life,

I would’ve been ready.

I would’ve loved you like I was supposed to—

not from a place of fear or habit,

but from presence,

and a peace I hadn’t earned yet.

Maybe in that life,

I’d wake up early because I wanted to,

not because I was running from the guilt

of all the mornings I wasted chasing dopamine.

Maybe I’d leave my phone face-down,

and finally look up long enough

to notice you reaching for me

in the quiet.

In another life,

I wouldn’t flinch at stillness.

I wouldn’t sabotage softness.

I’d write you poems instead of excuses.

I’d hold the door with intention,

and hold your hand without needing a reason.

I’d be the kind of man who doesn’t wait

for the right time to show up—

just the kind who shows up.

But in this life,

I’ve made peace with my becoming.

I’m building discipline out of dust,

faith from fragments.

I’m learning to pray not for what I lost,

but for the strength to carry what’s left.

And maybe that’s enough.

Maybe this life

isn’t about fixing what I broke,

but honoring it—

by never breaking it the same way twice.

Still,

some nights I wonder about that other life.

The one where I got it right

the first time.