If I had to choose between a world with you in it or no world at all, I know what I would choose.
If it was you or the trees, I’d chop every last one down myself.
If it was you or the seas, I’d drain them all drop by drop, then I’d turn on the lakes.
If it was you or this house, I’d dismantle it board by board, for the rest of my life.
If the mountains had to go, I’d crumble them with a maul and then move them with my dad’s old wheelbarrow.
I’d plug the volcanoes.
I’d silence the stars.
I’d outrun the sun all day, every day so it could never rise.
I’d trap the rain and ship it next-day to Mars. I’d pack up the flocks and herds and schools and send them with the rain.
When I finished, it wouldn’t be much of a world.
But I’d take my chances.
Because in my world, there is no world without you in it.
(Now imagine if we treated each other like this. What a world that might be and we wouldn’t need to waste time destroying everything.)
