The universe rightfully gives me all the love that I deserve.

Love travels by hand. Whatever the universe does, it does through a specific person putting the kettle on, or texting at the right hour, or driving out to get you when the car died.

There is no audition. You don't have to be impressive this month to stay inside the circle of people who would make that drive.

Make the list of who would come. It's usually shorter than you'd like and longer than you fear, and every name on it is already an answer to the question of what you deserve.