We sat next to each other on the Santa Monica pier watching the sunset. You told me about your grandmother and I told you about mine. It felt like talking to an old friend. I hope life is treating you well.
— Sunset Watcher
No one has claimed this yet — could it be you?
Saturday night at the rooftop bar on Spring Street. The DJ played that old Fleetwood Mac song and you grabbed my hand and we danced like nobody was watching. Then your friends pulled you away and I never saw you again.
You had your own telescope set up outside Griffith Observatory and were showing strangers Saturn's rings. Your excitement was contagious. I was the one who asked too many questions. You deserve the universe.
We were always paired together in partner yoga on Sundays. You mentioned one day that you were moving to another state but I never found out where. Our silent understanding during practice was something special.