The Most Improbable Man

A true-life search for a missed connection — one meeting, six hours, and the six degrees of separation that could bring him back.

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  • Am I Psychotic? Part 2

    TL;DR: This isn’t just about finding him—it’s about what he awakened in me: a corrective experience, a rebellion against impermanence, and the possibility of a more meaningful, reciprocal ending.

    1. If I never find him, what do I loose?

    If I never find him, I  guess I will loose … little bit of hope? And little bit of the sanity that the experience gave me. But not all of it. What I know I will loose – yet again – is another authentic connection. I’ve had many of these in my life. So I will get over this one too. Each time, I am left a little more tired of getting over it. Again. 

    I got corrected

    From a psychological perspective, I see this encounter as a corrective experience. The sudden calm and quiet in my chest hinted at nervous system reset. It bypassed the usual defences of planning, control and rationalising.  Experiences like this only happen when something in the world pulls it directly out of our depths. They are the opposite of trauma – they overturn the normalised, everyday tension I’ve lived day to day. What made this one stand out was how forcefully it pulled  me away from my baseline of tension and responsibility.

    Search for meaning

    It is obvious this is as much about him as it is about what he represents. My identify has been chiselled by discipline, duty, business and control – along with fights, failures, pulling of hair and the dreaded pursing of lips. Yet the cage holding the untamed, receptive part of myself had its gate kicked open. Attachment theories love moments of unexpected emotional attunement. They tend to ignite the long buried needs and the urge to pursue the felt safety such connection brings – sometimes turning it into bonfire of feelings. Throw into the cauldron the incomplete narrative, which our minds loath, and you have a perfect mix for chasing something meaningful against all odds.

    I fear you, still

    I fear judgment, from you, from him and everyone around me. Maybe that’s why I kept my social roles are in tidy and align. And severely pruned right now. This set up probably doesn’t offer much space for sense of freedom, romance or spontaneity – all of which levelled up from cinders to blaze over nigh. So I must admit that these traits are a significant part of me. I might have overdone with keeping their leash too short. The leash established a pattern of impermanence that I had to accept.

    Busy life in property management for expats offered many connections. But expats inevitably vanish, and I learned to swallow endings dictated by lives of others. The encounter with R*** feels like an inner rebellion. He represents a chance for at least a different ending – not a neat story ending, but my own ending. One more meaningful: reciprocal, organic, alive. Not the disappearance of something in me, but return to it.

    And we are both clearer now – where he ends, and where what he represents beings. Isn’t sanity the ability to tell the difference and cary on regardless?

  • Am I Psychotic? Part 1

    Am I Psychotic? Part 1

    If I never find him, what do I lose?

    TL’DR: If he never responds, I already carry the gift of calm and proof I can connect deeply. If he does, I don’t want a fantasy or a script — only a chance to continue honestly from where we left off, to walk, talk, maybe hold, and share something as simple as coffee and cake.

    Somebody questioned my efforts to reach R*** as obsession. So I asked myself: how do I separate the man from what he represents? To — you know — help you determine if you’re dealing with a psychotic person or something more real. The “Internet Gods” asked me these two questions:

    1. If I never find him, what do I lose?
    2. If I do find him, what do I really hope to gain?

    If I do find him, what do I hope to gain?

    I admit that never knowing if he actually received my message feels discouraging. But I approached everything with that in mind. I don’t want to out him — that’s why my descriptions are vague enough to land near him, but never on him. He has to choose to identify himself.

    If he does receive my message and never responds, I am at peace with him being just a memory and a reminder. Because what I’ve already gained is proof: I can connect to another person on a deeper level than just pleasant chat with friends. (And right now I’ve got three — two of them kind of emotionally unavailable.)

    The tension melded into me by living in this world is gone. I’ve been given the unexpected gift of sudden calm and quiet, which now lives in my chest from now on. I can feel the peace. I can hold it. And if, by some grace of fate, he discovered that same peace too, I will remain content and happy for him.

    If the message reaches him and he chooses to contact me, you could imagine plenty of scenarios I might wish to happen. Because you know — we are human, we have imagination. Honestly? That’s bull. I have no script for how I want it to go. Expectations are hollow. I’m too old to be bothered by them.

    Of course I wish we had the chance to meet again. To start where we ended. To walk and talk. To split it all open. To let him vent, question my sanity, even give out to me for the stupid thing I did by looking for him. And then, to let him choose if he wants me to hold him for a while.

    And then talk some more. And have coffee and cake. Sugar always makes people feel better. Unless you’re diabetic — in that case, I’ll eat something keto.

    I’m not looking for a romance trope. I’m ready for his choice. What I want is authentic continuation — not a storybook ending.

  • Lesson number one

    Lesson number one

    When being around someone makes you feel like a blow of fresh air, dont close the bloody window in its face just because it’s unusual. And if you spend six hours with a stranger and don’t let them go away just because you are confused. Or simply put, don’t be stupid, Jan.

    When I woke up the morning after meeting R*** – well noon – I literary gasped and it wasn’t the Blazing sun trying to burn Barcelona to cinders.

    It was a thought.

    How. Could. I. Be. So stupid!

    I usually wake thinking about leaking showers, late rents and where to place people without housing. That day, my first thought was about a man I somehow brought to tears… then let him walk away.

    Believe you me I was watching the drinks like a policeman. In Barcelona they hand you over a bottle of gin and sprinkle tonic for a flavor. But intoxication or not, I felt changed. This was new.

    A) I haven’t thought of a guy – anyone except my baby nephew – in eight years

    B) I haven’t felt my chest so at ease in just as long

    C) He was my first thought in the morning. That’s significant.

    And also, if you behave kindly to someone and they still feel rejected; then you have done something wrong. 

    I remember his flinch when I tried to comfort him. I honestly don’t know if it was me. Maybe somebody at the bar said something that drummed a wrong string. The whole time, we were cheerful. R*** was w***** or slagging someone, or calling them out when they were handsy. All that with rigor and wit. And yet he always came back to me. Stayed close. Talked to me like I was a person, not a target. 

    So when I found him, for the last time, getting ready to leave, I felt stunned. The last time we spoke, he’d been wondering out loud what was happening between us. He thought it was strange. He shouldn’t be feeling like that towards a stranger. He started repeating “this could never be, this could never be anything”. I found it very intriguing, for someone to be so aware of the entire uniqueness of our situation. I listened to him quietly. He let me scratch his beard, feel his hair with my fingers. I said “We can try?”

    Then he drifted away again.

    You don’t have conversation like that with someone you’ve just met – even if you’d swallowed a kilo of molly. (Nobody did. And I’d been drinking water for hours). This was two people silently freaked out by how well they clicked together.

    When was the last time this happened to you? Exactly. 

    Looking back, I think the 30 hours of wakefulness made me bit blind to growing distress in R***s voice. And I think what he was really saying was “Get me out here.”

    And I should have. I should not have let him walk home alone. That’s what humans do – we don’t let each other disappear into the night (or noon) when it matters.

    Lesson number one: if something feels good, do not let it go. 

    R*** felt like a fresh freedom and peace in my chest. I think I felt like that to him too. And this doesn’t happen twice.

  • The Full Story but short to hook you up

    The Full Story but short to hook you up

    Barcelona · Sunday 10 Aug 2025 · Morning–Early Afternoon

    It was the kind of day that doesn’t announce itself as life-changing. The sun had already warmed the city, and the streets outside were waking slowly. Inside the venue, the air was thick with humidity, the quiet broken only by water lapping and the low hum of conversations.

    Read the full story here

    That’s where I met R*. We didn’t exchange numbers. No Instagram, no last names — just hours of unplanned connection. Six hours, to be exact.

    We spoke about everything and nothing: work, travel, little stories from home. He was Irish-born, now living in Australia, with an accent softened by distance but still unmistakably his. He had an easy way about him — neat beard, copper hair catching the light, eyes that seemed to shift from blue to gold depending on where the sun hit. He carried himself like someone used to responsibility, but he laughed easily. He was able to use his words as a whip if felt he needed to. Direct, open, extremely perceptive to other people’s subtexts and expressions.

    Between the conversations there moments where we orbit each other while drifting through the venue and bars, but it was never awkward. We always came back to each other. There were few quiet moments, the kind where you’re both content to share the space. Sometimes he’d disappear briefly — to get drinks, always two at a time — or to check on something, returning like we’d picked up mid-sentence.

    When it was time to go, he left wearing a designer beige t-shirt. That moment was emotional as I have sent the wrong signals and thought it is better for him to go. I watched him walk out into the bright Barcelona afternoon, expecting — without thinking — that I’d see him again. But the moment slipped away as quickly as it came.

    This is why I’m here now: to see if the six degrees of separation really can close a gap that wide.

    Why It Matters

    Some meetings are just pleasant memories. Others are like threads tugging at you, reminding you they’re not finished. I’ve had enough of letting things fade without trying. If there’s a chance, I want to take it.

    If you think you know him — or someone who might — please reach out. Share this story. Pass it along. You might be closer to him than you think.

    Identifiers Recap

    • Met in a place with a pool, saunas, and a steady flow of people on 10 Aug 2025 between 07:00 and 13:00 (Spain time).
    • Irish-born, lives in Australia, light Australian accent.
    • Mid–170 cm, light blue/golden-blue eyes.
    • Neat beard, ginger/copper hair, sides trimmed with longer top.
    • Works in the medical field managing more than one department across several hospitals.
    • Wore a designer beige t-shirt when leaving.
    • Two habits: using a loud, attention-getting signal (kept vague) and buying drinks in twos.

    Call to Action: If you recognise him, or have a lead, send a message or share this link.

    ← Back

    Thank you for your response. ✨

  • You only need to look around you

    You only need to look around you

    Barcelona · Sunday 10 Aug 2025 · morning–early afternoon

    TL;DR: On 10 Aug 2025 in Barcelona, I met R* — an Irish-born, Australia-based man — in a spa with a pool and saunas. We spent six unforgettable hours together. I don’t know his full name, but I want to find him. If you think you know him, check the Quick Identifiers below and pass this on.

    Hey, look here! This guy is trying to find another guy he met in a weird place! Why didn’t they exchange numbers, dumbasses? Why wouldn’t he just move on? Maybe because I am aware that some moment wouldn’t deserve to fade away – and this one is still humming in my chest.

    Thank you for coming to see this page, stranger. I asked many strangers like you to help me reach a person in the haystack. Hence the Improbable Person title. You are now looking at this web wondering, what hell is this guy about and how does he believe he can find someone among 8.142 billion people. Do you know what? I am wondering this too.

    I met R* under unusual circumstances in a place that tends to erase names, faces, and memories. We spent six hours together — six hours of conversation, laughter, the quiet pauses in between, and the easy comfort of company. The air was still in there and smelled of chlorine. His voice had gentle lilt that makes you want just smile. In our case the personalities stayed, even the names and I am now fighting to keep the memories. My goal is simple; reach him, so he can decide if he wants to reach back. I exist in the industry where too many people come and go .Life has too many comings and goings. And I am kind of tired of being adult and I’m tired of just moving on. So I kicked the bucket and got excited about a project as my way of making something bigger out of a single connection.

    And that’s where you come in. Right now You might be crucial individual in the whole Six Degrees of Separation chain.

    Whether you’re a friend of a friend, a hospital administrator, or just someone who loves a good mystery — you might be the missing link in something cheesy, romantic, and unapologetically gay. If you’ve ever believed in chance encounters, romance, or the science of connection, you know it’s possible. Evidence that it’s possible? Probably all the B romance movies. And bit of social sciences mixed in.

    You can read on the full story that i have designed to be able for him to identify with the experience. Or you can check the quick identifiers below and send few of your friends, professionals or buddies link to this page. One of the 6 connections will be the one just next to R***. You just need to get me there. Send this on. Say to someone “Hey, this is interesting story, does the description ring a bell?”

    Quick Identifiers

    Me and R*** met in a place with pool, saunas, lots of people drifting in and out ( I know, eeew, but you can get over it) on the 10th of August 2025 between 7:00 and 13:00 of Spanish time. We kept each other company for six hours. R*** is originally born in Ireland, now lives in Aussies. That’s where he get’s his Australian lilt. He is mid-170 cm tall, light colored eyes in the blue/golden blue spectrum. He has got neat beard, hair trimmed on the side with longer top – on the ginger/copper side of color. He works in the medical field managing more than one department across several hospitals (I am trying to be bit vague here). When he left he wore a designer beige t-shirt suggesting his choice of fashion is certainly not Primark. He had couple of distinctive habits. He would use a type of a loud signal that got people’s attention or just made cracks in the tiling (kept here vague for the same reasons) and he would be buying drinks in twos.

    Take a look at the summary list— all it takes is to look around and see who fits:

    • We met in a place with a pool, saunas, and a steady flow of people on 10 Aug 2025 between 07:00 and 13:00 (Spain time). I can provide better detail if you ask.
    • R* is Irish-born, lives in Australia, and has a light Australian accent.
    • Mid–170 cm tall, light blue/golden-blue eyes.
    • Neat beard, ginger/copper hair, sides trimmed with longer top.
    • Works in the medical field managing more than one department across several hospitals.
    • Left wearing a designer beige t-shirt — definitely not Primark :)
    • Two distinctive habits: using a loud, attention-getting signal (kept vague intentionally) and always buying drinks in twos.

    If you think you know him — or know someone who might — share this page. Say: “Hey, this is an interesting story. Does it ring a bell?” One of the six connections between us might just be you.