If anyone ever asked me, I would say that I don’t believe in fate.
But lately, after a series of disappointments regarding my relationships with other people in my life, I’ve been wanting to believe it. Believing in fate gives you hope. It’s like God and karma. At the end of the day, everyone wants to believe in some higher power–you can declare yourself fiercely independent, an existentialist, an absurdist, whatever–but you can’t say that you don’t secretly wish something immensely powerful beyond our comprehension will guide you to where you will find happiness.
Not believing in fate makes the world seem so small, like what you know now is all there will ever be. Believing makes the world seem filled with endless possibilities.
Everyone’s deepest desire is to someday meet that one person, platonically or romantically, that will just fit you in every way. Like you were made to meet each other. You guys listen to the same music, read the same books, fall in love with the same cities. You don’t have to pretend around her/him. You don’t have to play games with her/him. The friendship doesn’t ever feel draining like it has to be forced. It just is.
But I get it. In real life, friendships are fragile. People come and go. Nothing is forever. We all have our own agendas in which the changes sometimes outweigh the deepness of the connection.
But still, are you out there?
On the Verge of Existing 