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Out of all the timelines that could have unfolded, our paths still crossed. It feels almost unreasonable when you think about it too long. How many tiny choices had to line up for that moment to happen?

And yet we met.

I like to think about the quiet accidents of the universe sometimes. The way two completely separate lives can exist for years, moving in their own directions, collecting their own stories, wounds, and little joys. Until one day they simply intersect. No warning. No grand announcement. Just a moment where two worlds suddenly acknowledge each other.

Maybe it was nothing at first. Just another conversation. Another face in the crowd. But the strange thing about meeting someone is how easily they become part of the architecture of your days. Suddenly they exist in your routines, your thoughts, the small pauses between everything else.

And it makes you wonder.

How close were we to never knowing each other at all?

Because that’s the fragile part of it. We like to imagine the important people in our lives were always meant to arrive. That somehow the universe would have forced the meeting no matter what. But the truth is quieter than that. Sometimes it really was just chance. Just two lives happening to overlap for a moment.

And yet we met.

Which makes it feel a little miraculous. Not in the loud, cinematic way. But in the soft way. The kind that sits quietly in the background of your life and occasionally reminds you how strange it is that two strangers once existed in the same world without knowing they would someday recognize each other.