voice

It seemed fated, the way we had met. Well to clarify, not exactly destined. Just maybe with a tad bit of magic in it. Those moments that feel too lovely to be real life, the awe that something could be so realistically beautiful. A beautiful life perhaps requires a kind of hope or faith in something much bigger than ourselves. A kind of force keeping track of us, in a nurturing, parent-like way. Some call this force God, or Creator, whichever your deity. I call it a mystery, rooting for us, wishing for our growth through experience. Through free will and destiny, or karma or fate intertwined.