His quietude made me think he was the villain.

But then you realize Richard has a moxie unlike any other: his kindness isn't fluffy or frivolous. He's exact, stoic, and unbelievably jocular.

When I first met Richard, I offered to proofread his essay. That never happened. Instead, he offered me respite on every occasion.

Picnics on Primrose Hill; swimming in Hampstead Heath; shopping through Spitalfields; bike rides across Peckham; coffee at the Southbank. They're trivial fun on their own. Then all of a sudden, they become a measurement of the magnificence of friendship.

We got dinner to celebrate my new job. And when that job became stressful, we got lunch and talked about our adventures. Richard is there for all the minor and marvellous milestones. He followed my passions to Creative Mornings and I followed his to Brighton.

Before long, we fell into the habit of going dancing every Saturday. We'd gyrate & jive & sing our lungs dry until the sun came out. All the while in our matching bandanas.

Richard may have left London but if I need to annihilate a dancefloor, I know who to call. Miss you buddy.