He always talked about the sea. That vast emptiness of blue somehow enveloped his mind all the time. “I want to travel the world,” he said, “I want to travel to all those places that are just short-stops for people heading to the big cities. Small places are the most beautiful. They’re those sceneries that everyone overlooks, the hidden gems of the world. But the sea,” he would say, “I would save the sea for the last stop on my journey. To be amongst something so much bigger than me would make me feel so alive. So very alive with the knowledge of knowing that I am just one man. A simple man in this world much like the fish. Small, some may even say insignificant, but part of a greater system. The sea is a dark place if it’s empty. All that space and not a single living thing relishing in its glory. Much like a life without the right people in it isn’t it?” He always talked about the sea, and then one day I understood why.