you must believe you are special and then go so hard, for so long, with such violent refusal to accept any other ending, that reality itself starts running out of ways to tell you no. you must wage a war daily against the ordinary outcome, until the belief you invented out of nothing in a room by yourself has been hammered into the world so many times that it stops being a claim and becomes reality.
I still remember the night we hid under the tree bc it was raining and we held close while everything around us went quite I looked you in your eyes and seen the purest love I could ever receiveโฆ right person wrong timing I believe is what we called it