A very old draft I found here, from September 4th 2016 (Verdict: I was right)

Twice now, I've looked into your eyes.
something magic was shining inside them, like your iris's themselves were grinning wide. But I caught my breath, because as I continued to gaze, I began to worry, and wondered if I was actually just seeing the light of stars that had already died.

I searched; my voice saught to find your inner parts, but...
perhaps kinfolk friends is all we ever were intended for.
You're like a mirror to me, reflecting much good, and a bit to question.

I just really hope my stars are still alive and burn brighter w/ each year, and their warmth grows. I wish the same for you, but I doubt our lights will meet anywhere in the cosmos, more than they already have.

I closed my eyes and held your hand, and it felt like we were running through the twin towers, so many offices and stacks of papers. Perhaps they've all already crumbled, burned and become ash, and it's silly for us to pretend like we can still go all the way to the 100th floor.

Plus, I never wanted New York.