The Shape Of Chance

-
We met the way most things do—
unplanned,
unremarkable,
just another name in a lobby full of noise.
No music swelled.
No moment froze.
If anything, it felt temporary…
like something already halfway out the door.
I figured you’d be another passing through—
a brief overlap,
a few conversations,
then gone without ceremony.
That’s how it usually goes.
But then you stayed.
Not all at once—
not in some grand, deliberate way—
just… again.
And again.
You kept choosing the same space,
the same conversations,
the same time spent where it didn’t have to be spent.
Like it didn’t cost you anything.
Like it didn’t mean anything.
That’s what made me notice.
Because once is nothing.
Twice is coincidence.
But there’s a point where repetition
stops asking for explanation
and starts demanding one.
So I started paying attention.
Not to some idea of you—
not some polished version people pretend to be—
but the small things.
The way your mind moves
half a step off rhythm
from everyone else.
The things that should be irritating…
aren’t.
The habits people would complain about,
dismiss,
correct—
I find myself memorizing.
Not because they’re perfect.
Because they’re yours.
And somewhere in all of that,
I noticed something else—
Not in what you said,
but in what you didn’t expect.
In the way certain things
almost surprised you
when they shouldn’t have.
Like you got used to less
than what you actually are.
Like somewhere along the line,
people stood close enough to see you—
and still didn’t look long enough
to understand what they had.
I don’t believe in fate.
I don’t think anything placed you here
for me to find.
But I also don’t have a better explanation
for why, out of everything moving at once,
you kept choosing me
like it was nothing.
Like it didn’t matter.
And maybe that’s the part that does.
Because I’ve seen what people do
when something actually matters to them.
They hesitate.
They calculate.
They second-guess.
You didn’t.
You just… showed up.
I thought the world was consistent—
flat in a way that made sense.
Predictable.
Manageable.
Turns out,
it wasn’t missing anything.
I just hadn’t been paying attention
to the right things.
And now I am.

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