I left out most of the pictures of the only reason I was in San Francisco in February, 2010: The woman I loved, the woman who loved me. I let her get away, but I bask not in regret. She said she would always love me. I believed her then, I believe her still. The only photos of her show her boots as we rode a trolley, and her sleeping in bed. Per Muslim custom (according to her, at least) women and men were to sleep separately after sex. With or without Muslim/Islam customs we both preferred sleeping separately anyway. Yet another reason she was a keeper.