Maybe I’m not supposed to say this, but I thought that if we couldn’t be together, you wouldn’t be able to be with anybody else.

That’s selfish thinking, right? Because I should want you to be happy and want the best for you always.

Can you blame me?

I should be what’s best for you.

Who makes you smile the way I do?

Nobody.

Who makes you laugh the way I do?

Nobody.

Who makes you happy the way I do?

You guessed it, nobody.

So why is it that we couldn’t figure shit out when it was all set for us to succeed?

The universe set us up together at what felt like the right time. The stars aligned and put us together at what felt like the right moment.

That’s exactly what we were too, and I know you felt it too.

The right moment.

We could’ve met at any other time, and it just wouldn’t have been so obvious, yet we met on that exact day.

Am I supposed to believe the universe is just fucking with us?

No way. I’ve been believing in this damn plan that the universe has for way too long to start thinking other ridiculous shit like the universe doesn’t always have a plan.

You should be with me, and I should be with you. Somehow, someway that’s is what’s supposed to happen.

So universe, what am I supposed to do now?

I guess this is just as good of a place to ask that question to the universe, right? This silly-looking ass paper with this stupid-looking ass handwriting.

I want to believe again, but this is the kind of shit that makes it tough.