The least kindred spirit

All that time he was looking for the one, X tells me, the one he’d have a connection with, the one he’d really connect with for once. His kindred spirit, he says, that’s what he was looking for. Male or female, it didn’t matter, because once he found him or her that would be it, he says, they would know each other instantly, like the halves of Aristophanes’ circles, like reunited twins who’ve felt the same strange absence all their lives. Little did I know it would be you, he says, the least kindred spirit.