Crossing the Bridge

When random seems not so random...what does that mean? Or does it even mean anything?

Crossing the bridge.
Movement over the river.
I've looked for him for months.
Constantly wondered if he
was alive or dead or gone.
It's like a vision, a scene from a
movie at this point.
She's driving.
She's talking.
I have no idea
what she's saying.
I look out the window.
We pass them,
a gathering of the homeless.
And there he is.
I didn't see anyone else.
I didn't need to see anyone else.
I only needed to see him.
Is that random?
Or not?
Coincidence?
Or not?

Does coincidence even exist? Or do things just happen or they don't? And we humans want to add purpose to them... Because without purpose, we will wonder: What is the point of all this??