Monday, November 25, 2002



We are like two actors in the matinee of life,
Both of us pretending
That I don’t know you better than anyone in this place.
I watch you bear your image
Not making eye contact with anyone,
Quiet, but definitely too cool for everyone else.

But I know
What’s really inside that skin that opens for no one.
Because that summer,
You opened it for me--
And I saw things so unbelievably wonderful
That you had taken such care to mask from the rest of the world.

That’s what I remember most about you:
The real you
That I found that summer.
The caring, sensitive, funny guy
That won my stubborn heart with such ease.

So many nights,
Under the balmy moon--
We talked for hours
About your cowboy antenna ball “Dewayne” we bought at Wal*Mart,
How sunburned we both were from goofing around at the pool all day,
And me heading off to college in less than a month.

All the while knowing
When we finally crept home in those wee hours,
That I would have to face the crossed arms of my mother in that navy bathrobe,
And you would only get three hours of sleep.

I see you in this new town,
With these new people
I think about you,
And often wonder how you are really doing.
I wonder how it is possible
That we can be such strangers to each other now.
And then…

I can’t help but miss you a little.

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