The Cutest Girl in School

Dear Chris,

It's been awhile, my friend, a long, long while, remembering your argyle sweater- your golden-red hair, parted down the middle, feathered like an angel. We used to give you so much crap for that- for your pretty hair- said you were the sister we never had.

And you were shorter than all of us too- which I was thankful for, as I came to the shoulders of most of the girls at our junior high. You took the abuse that should have been aimed at me. Remember that one time I dressed up in that green gossamer dress for 'opposite day'? That sunny Thursday, I was the cutest girl in school.

You might find it funny now, but I won a beauty contest dressed in drag when I was in college. It was a fundraiser for a church trip to the Soviet Union; we were going to convert the communists one relationship at a time- or die trying. I wore this tasteful little number in the swimsuit portion of the competition- a purple one-piece with a frilly skirt (to hide my modest package) borrowed from my girlfriend's hefty roomate.

As I was saying, I won that contest, to the tune of 'The Most Beautiful Girl in the World' and next morning, I saw that someone had spray painted 'FAG' outside my dorm room window, in angry red letters; New Testament red letters.

Why am I telling you all of this? I am trying to tell you that I am sorry. That I am sorry for forgetting those beach trips your father took us on, when I needed to be away from home. That I am sorry I couldn't bring myself to look him in the eye when I drove by. That I am sorry I couldn't keep that needle from plunging into your vein that 'one last time' and couldn't keep you out of this hole, now covered in aging grass and 10+ years of autumn leaves. I am sorry that I couldn't give you, my friend- these flowers in person.

My Boys-Smith Rock

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When darkness surrounds, hunt for the light. I am the moth to these two flames, and I am blinded by my love for them. This is a darkness I can live with.