I said I couldn’t write about you yet. But I stumbled on the project to transform the Alliance, along the vibrating string of someone else I love, and I guess the universe is calling me again.
How this is related to polyamory, in particular my polyamory, is complicated, so I won’t explain further than interlocked triangles of teenage lust.
I literally can’t remember a part of high school when you weren’t around. From the very first time I walked in that room, until graduation. And it wasn’t just drama club, either. When I look through the yearbooks there are so many photos we were in together.
When I think about you, I’m always laughing, except the times when I was in your car terrified for my life. And we were in your car a lot. I remember one time when it was raining and we were running late and I seriously thought I would die the next time you fishtailed.
But laughing until I cried. Laughing until my sides hurt. Laughing until I peed my pants.
I don’t know if someone else paired us up, we decided, or something else. But you were totally, gloriously mine for a while. We memorized our lines, and we knew every word, but onstage we were all about improvisation. Who knew that capturing the hearts and minds of eight year olds would be such a valuable life skill? But we did and I’ll never forget.
In the midst of this plague I think about you and that one, and how angry turning blind eyes makes me.
I love you, Pete. But so did everyone. I hope they read this and share that love.