This could be us.

There’s not a day that goes by without me thinking, this could have been us.

It’s a cool, breezy morning. A thin man walks briskly besides a short woman who looks at him in a way that only couples do. And I think, this could have been us.

In the evenings, a couple strolls by the garden near my office. It’s that lazy evening stroll that only couples are capable of. A tall guy and a short girl. And I think, this could have been us.

A late-twenties guy in shorts and a t-shirt walks besides who could’ve only been his wife, holding her hand in one of his and carrying a grocery bag in the other. A walk from the store to their temple of love and affection. And I think, this could have been us.

A bike whizzes past. Another guy, another girl, their bodies touching, in a powerful embrace. As my eyes catch the dust in the wake of the bike, I think: this could have been us.

A thousand brief microseconds of events like these happen everywhere around me. And it’s the same thought that springs up every time.

This could have been us.