Tonight I saw you. I saw you, forearms covered in flour, about to toss another pizza. I saw you throw your head back and laugh at something your date said that probably wasn’t that funny. I saw you walking your giant dog, and your tiny dog. I saw you sitting alone at the bar. I saw you playing darts with your coworkers. I saw you floor it. I saw you cross in the middle of the street. I saw you sitting in your car with the interior lights on, reading your email. I saw you riding in the passenger side with your hat backward and no shirt on. I saw you brushing crumbs off your shirt. I saw you getting a haircut. I saw you raise a beer. I saw you lock up your bike. I saw you moving chairs inside, closing up for the night. I saw you waiting for your dinner. I saw you licking a melting ice cream, diving into pizza with gusto, chugging down an iced coffee. I saw you coo at your baby. I saw you flip off your friend as a joke.

I saw you living your life. You were walking, driving, riding, running, lifting, laughing, eating. You were dating, you were saying hello, you were saying goodbye. You were keeping it together.

You were alive.