Some fated loves are hurricanes. They tear through your life to clear out the deadwood, to remind you that you are alive, and then they disappear over the horizon. They were not a mistake. They were a catalyst.

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But sometimes... sometimes fate is a harbor. It brings you the one person who makes the chaos of existence make sense. The one person you will fight for, wait for, and grow old next to.

There is a distinct difference between falling in love and being fated to love.

This doesn’t mean it is easy. Fate is not a fairy tale. Fate is two broken people choosing each other anyway. Fate is surviving the storm when every logical bone in your body tells you to leave. Fate is looking at the mess, the timing, the obstacles—and whispering, “I don’t care. It’s you.”

But being fated to love someone? That is a demolition of coincidence.