This was supposed to be the year. I didn't know what to expect but I surely prepared for whatever life had hidden under his sleeve.
Two and a half years ago, a psychic told me that I'd be married in two years. Well, it's safe to say he predicted wrong. Actually, he didn't exactly use the word "marry", he only mentioned "two years" and let me imagine the rest. I think about this a lot. Two years later, I met someone and a gut feeling told me that this was it. It's difficult to explain how or why I was so sure but sooner than later, I learned that gut feelings are not always correct.
You see, at the time it just made complete sense to me. Everything was somehow falling into place without me forcing anything as if it was meant to happen, almost like destiny. All the questions that had haunted me in the past were perfectly answered. I woke up one day and I just knew... And when I know? I. Just. Know.
But I suppose we choose to believe the answers that give us the most closure. We believe it so much that we allow ourselves to be blindsided by all the signs pointing elsewhere. And maybe I was reading too much into the signs and there were never really any signs at all? Maybe this all happened by chance and for a little while, I was lucky.
Whatever it is, I got my answer. I know what happens in two years. I know that the future is more than gut feelings, and signs, and false predictions. Everything that happens is everything you work for. Everything else that you can't explain is just life throwing things at random. So what if the psychic was wrong? The only one who can predict my future is me. And I predict... I predict something good.