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As much as the notion of a soulmate—someone in this world that is destined for me—captivates me, I understand the world well enough to know that it is often thwarted by circumstance—by who we are compared to everyone else, by our status, by our material possessions, by our physical appearance, by convenience and comfort. It seems as though there’s nothing actually about the interconnection of two souls because of fate, but a cold calculus of compatibility within the human mind.

Perhaps all that’s left to define the significance of what we might define as a soulmate is its direct correlation with its ability to persist against the odds. Perhaps the truth is that the wayward tides of circumstance—the increasingly miniscule chances of connecting with someone at this level, where seemingly the stars must align to create the conditions to engender such an inexplicable, inextricable connection between two minds and two hearts—are the very reason it continues to bear any meaning in the harsh reality of our world.

So if I do find you—after all this time, after all these trials, after all the bouts of heartache and disconsolation, after all this senseless vacillation between apathy and desperation, after all these moments of joy that felt irrevocably incomplete, all amidst the immeasurable vastness of this world we live in—it would all make sense.