this is a public love letter:
Statistically there are more atoms in the universe than there are chances of you existing. Even just going back two generations through your ancestors to combine the expanding circumferential variables that translate love and creation into probability, creates a number so astronomically unbelievable, so inconceivably magnificent, that if you were go to back a million years, you were impossible.
There was a time when you were impossible. You know what that means, right? It means that you have already triumphed. Baby, you won a war- just by being here. You have beaten the odds to be here today, with all of your traits and qualities. In time behind you are the hundreds, thousands of people who were your infinitesimally intricate human precursor, your equally impossible predecessors who somehow, somehow, merged the lineage that laced to create you. You, just existing, are backed by an army of thousands of insurmountable unseen shadows. Your existence is a chance of one among trillions upon trillions. You are nothing short of a divine revelation.