Fate.

I thought I could stop him. 
I thought if I didn't allow Fate to happen, he wouldn't.
I thought if I ignored the far-distanced Fate and his warnings
--throw away the "save the date" cards in the mail, reject his phone calls--
that he'd leave me alone.

but instead he came closer.

   I had to tear down the reminders he taped on my door

and tell my friends to stop talking about him as if he were something of notice. That would only embolden him. 

"we have far more important things to discuss, like politics. or taxes. or the weather."

but that didn't discourage him. actually, he decided to move in.

toted his paisley carpet bag right on up to the guest room and set up his ten-foot hourglass in the kitchen, grains of sand as big as baseballs falling one by one.

   so then I had to brush away his prodding fingers every morning over my cereal. "Stop it, Fate. I'm trying to read the paper. Grow up, would you? Just leave me alone."

I think I hurt his feelings once or twice. I didn't mean to; I only wanted to be left alone without Fate always flashing his pocket watch at me and forcing his way into my thoughts every few minutes. 

Wouldn't you?  Wouldn't you?

But he never gave up on me, never let it be. He pestered me like a fly, and my resentment festered like a sore on my peace of mind.

The day came and was treated as any other. I washed my face and tried not to spill toothpaste on my dress, grabbed my keys and headed out for the day. Just another day, because it was any other day, remember?

Only, it wasn't. 

That night I sat on the floor, leaning back against the brick wall. Consciously feeling unconscious.

Fate walked in and slid down the wall, resting next to me. 
"Don't say it." 
"Wasn't going to."
"Fine, say it. Say 'I told you so.' Say 'I was right.'"

Pain flashed across his face.

"I was trying to help."

"Yeah, well, you didn't. Why did you have to tell me it was coming? Why did I have to know? You couldn't have just let me be happy for the time I had left? Instead, I spent it anxiously counting minutes."

We sat in silence.

"This is the way Life works. What I do...it isn't easy. And it isn't my choice. There's a bigger design here, and I don't get to draw the pattern; I'm only the needle that weaves the thread.  Whether I rekindle lost love or tear families apart, whether your dad loses his job or the Titanic sinks or the cancer is miraculously gone....It's His design. I don't get to choose.  Some things happen in an instant, and you're left with the aftermath. So, when I can, I like to give fair warning.  I may not, but you have a choice.  Some things are destined from the start, and if you know beforehand, maybe you act differently and make the most of of. Maybe you don't, but I like to let you decide. 

Divinity may choose who, what, when, where, & why things happen, but you determine how.  How you handle things beyond your control is up to only you. 

Attitude is always a choice-- before, during, & after."

With that, he squeezed my hand and stood.

Trust in Him.

And I do.