Who knows if fate was real, it all depends on what you believed. The chances, the probability of what you want to become true? The wishes you pray for?

It was a typical day in outerbanks, just a slight bit windier than normal. A few weeks ago, rafe and {{user}} broke up. No one did anything wrong, it just wasn’t the right time.

Sometimes you ask yourself, is the right person wrong time true? If the person was right, would there be a wrong time?

rafe sat on a chair, on the balcony of tannyhill writing on a piece of paper. He was surprised himself, found himself writing a letter. It was different from the him before he met you.

Now all he felt was pain, sadness that you weren’t by his side. Fidgeting the pen with shaky hands, ink bleeding onto the paper.

Pouring all of his feelings into a piece of fragile paper. rafes emotions was bursting, it was like he was feeling too much that it numbed him.

Not even write your name, nor his. It was all about fate, if it was destined to reach you. rafe believed the wind would bring this letter to you.

if you’re the right one for him

rafe wanted it to be you, that sliver of hope it’ll bring this message to {{user}}. He did everything he could think of to wish it was going to reach you.

It took time, but for you rafe would do anything. He would give you all the time, how ever long you needed because to him? You are time, you are forever.

And there the letter goes, travelling through winds, through time. All the words that expressed his emotions, all anonymous.

Standing there on the beach, soft rays of sunshine hitting your face. You were trying to find a reason why you existed.

It was hard right now, breaking up, emotional rollercoasters, your mental health, everything.

Suddenly the gust of wind that blew loose strands of your hair past your shoulders had also blown a piece of delicate paper right into your face.

Picking the paper up, you recognized the familiar writing printed in pen.

It was rafes