I don't know how I got here. I've always trusted in a divine plan that will ultimately lead me to where I'm supposed to be. I think that's why in some ways my life lacks direction because I look for signs and goalposts and these signs and goalposts often take me right where I'm supposed to go- but in the most roundabout loopy way ever.
At least I eventually reach point B. But it's a constant existential crisis on the way.
When I look at him [and I figure he doesn't know I'm looking or maybe he does] I'm filled with just wonder. I can't think of a more appropriate word for it. This is nuts and this can't be real.
It's like a bizarre Christmas miracle that I can't explain. That I exist and that he exists and that we both exist at the same time. A thousand random events and errant molecules and purposeless spins to bring us where we are, and the eternal question of not understanding exactly what any of it means.
And then he reaches for my hand, and I don't feel the need to ask. I just let it be, because it feels right.
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I'm lying on the grass and when I open my eyes, there's a hundred stars above me.
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