Changes in direction, destiny, ramblings and love

It seems that uncertainty through change wills me to write more than I would normally, or possibly happiness makes the act of writing less immediate?

Who can say?

My life is far more busy than it was, leaving me little time to mull over the finer details or to question the path I'm following.

Cathy has bought more happiness than I knew I could feel, showing me an honesty and love that I was so cynical about before. Through her, I've found I can love and be loved, not that I ever doubted it, just that I'd never really appreciated it before. She has opened up the shell I denied I carried.

What I love the most, is how effortless it seems, how natural it feels.
It feels ... right.

I still wonder how this change in life came to pass.
A decision made to pack up and go?
How did I arrive here?
Fate?
Destiny?

To sell everything and leave a country that had been home for so many years, to arrive in a strange city, finally find a job and move into the countryside - how amazing.

To meet Cathy and for it to feel like it was supposed to happen?

I suppose, looking back, my life has been one of constant amazement.

I'm never really certain how things which have happened began. How a single decision can change the course of a life. How the decisions of others can impact the very core of your experiences.

I have no allusions that there's anything special about my story, but for the obvious - it's mine.

I start to feel the "connectedness" of life, I think of my brother and my friends in other countries far away, and I'm certain we'll all bump into each other constantly throughout life, often with years inbetween meetings.

I could never say for certain that events in a persons life happen for a reason, but sometimes...

... it really feels that way.

When I talk with Cathy about her life and how she ended up in this small town, I can only wonder at it all. How did it come to pass that we met?

Isn't that the very essense of love? Destiny?

These chance meetings which appear to happen randomly, the butterfly that dances upon one specific flower in a field of millions, are they really so random?

Cynisicm falls away, the derision I could pour upon such feelings, the jokes I would make about these thoughts, they become meaningless when I consider this amazing path of life.

Talking of which, I think it's time for another cider ...