As space is such a vast place, the rules of probability would imply that anything is possible there. Another planet the same as our Earth, another galaxy that is the same as the one our Earth is bound in, another universe the same as the one our Earth is a part of. As long as the mathematical calculations can equate to an answer, that must make the answer true somewhere; even if it is a billion light years away, it must be true. Every second something exists. Every second something decides to do something, which according to mathematical calculation, will make the same something do the same thing in another dimension or vice versa. We live surrounded by mirrors. Even though we might not see these mirrors, they are there. Parallels. Your presence is present somewhere else. Every day that life continues, your actions are planned or you plan someone else’s actions, or you could even run into yourself, mathematically speaking…

​

I walk the earth over and over, round and around, looking inside, looking outside, searching for my missing piece. As I walk over unsaturated landscapes, I still can’t find the part I am missing. Wandering inside faded forests and outside through ash-coloured meadows, I feel lost, even though I’ve walked this same path for what seems like forever. I cross the monotonous, washed-out terra firma longing for an escape. 

​

I had a partner once, Xgl3. She was not the last piece of my puzzle, just a piece from another jigsaw different to mine. We desperately tried to lock interjambs for a time, bruising the sides of our pieces. We gave up, frustrated. Our pieces were such a close match on first inspection, but the longer we tried, the more dishevelled, torn and splintered our pieces became.

​

As I look into the oceans, I see a rippled image of what I am looking for. It is me. I don’t understand why I am always in search of this reflection, looking inside out at me, but during this time when we are acknowledging each other, I feel whole. But it is not a complete whole. 

​

It is the blackest of nights. There are no reflections or even shadows that can help me recreate my puzzle. Amazingly, and beyond probability, it is this night the sky has given me my missing piece. A tear in the cosmos shows me somewhere else in space, where colours are vibrant and I look complete, wandering aimlessly without care. This is what will make me one. Whole. Complete. I need to be in that world with my other self. All I must do is jump up along the stars to the vein in the sky and I can be at peace. 

​

As quickly as I had seen my perfect self, it disappeared back into the void. Every night, decade, century, millennium, I wait for that night again. Never moving, never wandering, never searching - just waiting.