In another world things are different. There my family doesn’t hold in so much anger, and I let myself be angry because I’m not afraid of turning out like them. There I try harder at school and get better grades on tests and don’t cry in the bathroom as my GPA slowly but surely declines. In the other world nobody dies, so everybody is happier most of the time. Instead of cemeteries there are gardens with flowers that grow from pure Earth instead of rotting bones. There aren’t any churches either; instead, towns of people get together every Sunday morning just to talk and share big dishes of food and somebody plays wordless songs on the piano. All these places are the same and don’t want to hurt each other or prove the others wrong.

In that world people love all kinds of people, with different body parts or the same ones, and no one cares because everyone understand that love can only ever be good. There aren’t any protests because people listen when you speak to them, and really think about what you’re saying. Everyone’s always changing and growing and learning; always forward, never back.

We’re treating our planet much better there, because we know it’s the only one we have. Everyone's got a bicycle.

People get to do what they want, too. Money’s never an issue because we’ve learned to share. Anyone can travel or write or paint or dance or lay on the couch for all their life, if they want to. Most people still have jobs, but they choose them. They choose the kinds of jobs they want to do, and work maybe fifteen hours a week. They spend sunny afternoons building forts with their kids and climbing mountains and flying in hot air balloons. They have picnics on the beach and read all the books they want.

There, I don’t cry and shake until I fall to the floor. There isn’t so much sadness in everything. There are only good days.