Archive of Unknown Universes

by Ruben Reyes Jr.

THE OUTCOME DOES NOT MATTER TO EVERYTHING THAT COMES BEFORE.

“When life feels impossible, I need context,” Ana said. “A reminder that I’m not alone, that someone else has asked what I’m asking myself. It’s why I love history, why I live with one foot in the next room.”

“Neto was so scared,” Luis said. “And he still chose Rafael,” Ana said, softly. “I want to live like that. In spite of fear, not because of it.”

Rafael. Rafael. Rafael. Rafael. If I write your name enough times, it’ll bring you to me. Rafael. Rafael. Rafael. Rafael.

All I can do now is point to the cruelties, naming them, making them real. The distance between us is cruel. So are all the things I saw this month that mercilessly remind me of you: fiery red lobsters for sale en la costa, two people clinging onto a dirty motorcycle, the pink-purple sunrise when I’m woken prematurely but cannot drift back to sleep, a pen you gifted me laying on my desk, your latest letter opened like a decaying corpse, Klimt’s “The Kiss,” the empty valleys between my fingers, the piece of clavicle with its phantom hickeys, a stranger who looks like you but only when I don’t look too closely.

Remember me. Remember that I love you. Remember that I loved the world, even when it hurt me. Remember that I loved you, even when I hurt you and you hurt me. Let the war rage on, but don’t forget me.