I attempt my best to lay out a guide, to arrange, to endeavor to unfurl my life month by month and smooth out all the wrinkles. However, at last, despite everything i’m left confounded. The future will turn and wind and bend when I wouldn’t dare hoping anymore. I’ll wind up with an alternate arrangement, an alternate street to get to where I was going.
In any case, that is exactly how life is.
Furthermore, it’s the manner by which love is.
We can’t arrange both of those things, despite the fact that we attempt to persuade ourselves we can.
For me this is particularly intense. I’m an organizer. I like knowing where and when, and even the why in some cases. I like having a destination, regardless of the fact that it’s some place off in the faraway future. I like envisioning where I’ll one day be, setting a point on a guide or an objective in my mind and going for that, at the same time knowing it won’t be a straight way, yet as yet accepting at any rate.
Be that as it may, life startles me now and again.
Thus loves.
At times affection will hit me all of a sudden, leaving my psyche turning and reeling. Abandoning me with befuddling sentiments that shake all that I’ve put stock in, all that I’ve attempted to outline out before me.
Adoration will leave me speechless, or totally speed my whole body up. It will make me feel mixed up and unusual, and it will rattle me, yet here and there in the most ideal ways.
That is the thing about affection, however: it’s the one thing you can’t arrange.
It’s the one thing you can’t pinpoint on a guide, can’t attract lines to, can’t interface with something substantial or even understand it infrequently.
It comes when it needs, either crawling up gradually or smacking you right in the face. It disturbs your best-laid guide, your sincerest goals.
It makes you reconsider everything in light of the fact that all of a sudden you’ve discovered something that matters more than yourself.
Thus I’ve chosen to surrender to love.
Since I can’t control it. Since I can’t arrange around it. Since the world is loaded with these questions, these odds we take for the things and individuals we think about.
So I’m pulling out all the stops; I’m betting everything.
I’m recognizing that affection is something I can’t control, that adoring another person could totally pulverize me, could make an altogether new life that I didn’t ever get ready for—yet that is alright.
Since I’m taking a risk.
Since life is too short to dependably know where you’re going, too short to be in any way reluctant to fall, too short to be in any way narrow minded with your heart.
Since not arranging can energize and fun. Since adoration is something or other you simply bounce into valiantly, and without a manual or guide.
Since infrequently you needn’t bother with a manual or guide. You simply require your heart, your mind, and the confidence in an option that is greater than yourself.
So I’m putting it all on the line. I’m betting everything.
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