If

The Ifs hang in the air around me

Sometimes I stumble into them

Sometimes I crash

But mostly they graze my skin

Gently reminding me of how it could have been

If

I had been different

If 

I had known you first

If

I hadn't fallen asleep

If

I hadn't told him about you

If

I had stayed in Italy

If

He hadn't lied

If

I hadn't asked

If

You hadn't come along

If

I had chosen differently 

Would I feel better? Or would the invisible Ifs still collect around me like mosquitos making my skin itch, fighting for my blood