I was scrolling through eHarmony one night, my pajama pants rivaling a shark suit in sophistication, when I stumbled upon a profile that felt like déjà vu in text form. The username was "UncannyDanny76," which I assumed was just a clever rhyme until I read his profile. His details eerily mirrored my own: same favorite band (The Rolling Stones), same guilty pleasure movie (Sharknado 3), and a mutual appreciation for pineapple pizza—it was like reading my autobiography but with a stranger's face attached. I was curious and weirdly compelled, so I sent him a message: "Hey Danny, are you my long-lost twin, or just a really dedicated stalker?" He replied almost instantly, "Neither! But if we’re twins, I get the better side of the face." We joked around, sharing more uncanny coincidences, like both being allergic to shellfish and owning cats named Sprinkles. Each revelation felt like unearthing a long-buried memory. Then Danny threw a curveball: "Do you also have that scar on your eyebrow from falling off a slide when you were six?" My stomach dropped. I literally touched that scar while reading his message. Coincidence had officially ventured into creepy territory. My fingers froze over the keyboard as I contemplated calling my mom to ask if she'd given a secret twin up for adoption. Just as I was about to type back, another message from Danny popped up: "Kidding!