It was more than the routine existence I’d subsided on during my years alone on this island. It was more than anything I could have imagined. Living with Jane on this island—on any stretch of land on this planet—was more fulfilling than any lonely soul could hope to find. It was impossible not to believe in fate when I reflected on our story. How I’d been lost on this island, in more ways than one, for years. How she’d been searching, though not knowing for what, and crashed into my very island when thousands of others inhabited this part of the ocean. If fate hadn’t done its part to bring two halves of a whole together, then something else had. Like magic. Or fucking unicorns. I hadn’t just picked Jane because she was the only female I’d seen in years. I picked her because she was mine. She picked me because I was hers. It had taken us years to find one another, and we’d both suffered a harrowing journey to get here, but we’d both arrived.
