The population of Earth burst forth like air exploding from a popped balloon. After centuries of living closer and closer together, piling together like a heap of stones poised to tumble, humans fell out into space. We sought more land; we found an endless amount.
I can’t complain of my life out here now. I heard once that the odds of finding another human are on a scale so ridiculous as to render it effectively impossible. It’s for the best.