The least kindred spirit

All this time I was looking for the one, I tell X, the one I’d have a connection with, the one I’d really connect with for once. My kindred spirit, I say, that’s what I was looking for. Male or female, it didn’t matter, because once I found him or her that would be it, we 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, I say, the least kindred spirit.


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