In Any Lifetime

by Marc Guggenheim

In a universe of infinite possibilities, the only constant is love. —Henri Thibault, PhD

“By favoring certain outcomes. Which limits the total number of realities in the multiverse from the impossibly infinite to manageably so.”

“It’s never pathetic to love someone, and it’s certainly not pathetic to mourn them.”

“And what you’re doing . . . looking for her, risking everything to be with her again . . . it’s heroic.”

“They might.” She draws a jagged breath.

Kept me saying I have to wait, I saw them all, just couldn’t fall, till we met.

It had to be you. It had to be you. I wandered around and I finally found the somebody who could make me be true . . .

“I was never alive,” he whispered in her ear. His voice cracked, and he fought off a swell of emotion, surprised by the tidal wave of sadness hitting him, driven by the realization that every minute he had spent without her was dim in comparison. Falling in love with Amanda, and Amanda’s falling in love with him, was the equivalent of Dorothy’s journey from Kansas to Oz, from black and white to Technicolor. “I was never alive until I met you.”

the universe—” “Favors certain outcomes,”