I often imagine this parallel world, one where the dead exist.
See, I have this theory. I think that we are all composed of the universe, of the trees and the stars and the ocean, and inside everyone there is this one thing, one piece of their soul, that makes them different from every other person on earth. The essence of your being, so to speak. The you inside of the universe.
So in this other world, I imagine the dead, this essence of their souls, living. They exist in a world very similar to ours, where we meet in passing, but we can never see them.
Maybe I imagine this because it brings me comfort. Maybe it's a fairytale I want to believe in because it gives me some semblance of peace.
I believe that in this other world, my loved ones exist. Not always, but sometimes.
Sometimes we happen to cross paths. When I'm riding in the car on the way home, when I'm rushing to get to work on time, when I'm in the kitchen making scrambled eggs. I can feel it, a sudden rush of energy. I whisper their names, Cam, Mia, and I wonder if perhaps, in their world, they are whispering mine as well.
It only happens for an instant. For one brief second my world catches up with theirs and there is this rush of air and all the remembering in the world is mine. It doesn't hurt, not like you might think. It's kind of peaceful.