There's this theory that everything happens at random. Life is random. Deaths are given at random. Animals procreate at random. Events in history occur at random. People choose their passions at random. People meet at random. Car accidents fall at random.
Somehow, I can never get behind that idea.
But when I think about all that love's brought to me...
What am I struggling for, if it is not meant to be?
I can't take a step. But I can't move on. I can't let him go completely. But I can't pull him in. I can't seem to be given a chance and I can't seem to make his chance known to him. Not in the theoretic or intangible but in the:
Come sit here a moment and I will tell you that I love you. Come down and meet my eyes so that you can see it for yourself.
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