Faustin wrote this in the comments to a friends-only post, but it’s just too good not to haul up into the sunlight:
But the feeling of being in love includes the feeling of inescapable compulsion, that it had to be, that it was cosmically ordained, that in all the world she uniquely fits me, that there was a master plan orchestrating such a harmonious and seemingly improbable outcome. It taunts my metaphysical conservatism.
Amen, brother.
I wonder if anyone really and truly in love — the kind of life-love relationship that bends and warps you toward the light, from the core of your being — couldn’t relate to this sentiment on some level.
Whether it’s true or not.