Reposted with permission – a message from Tea, a friend in Austin…

Message there you are. i was thinking about you….

she was what made you real. she was what made you worth my interest.

“you’re a monster!” i told her, rolling in the dirt…

and from the shadows your voice would refute it. disembodied words from the vicimity of the bleachers behind me.

at the time, i paid you no mind. and why should i? you were just some guy, and i’ve known hundreds of guys just well enough to be let down.

i was all together more interested in her.

and she was magnificent. she had thick, beautiful hair. her sparkling eyes were full of humor and life. she was smiling from ear to ear. she was vivacious and friendly. and most importantly, she didn’t care who i was or what brought me there that night. i didn’t need to impress her with my wit or beauty, no wanton displays or tallent required to win a few blessed moments of her attention.

and hey, we were very into the same thing. just a little bit of rough love, right there in the dirt, in front of god and everyone. forget we met all of five minutes beforehand.

so i repeated it, time and again. “you ARE a monster!”

and she woulde grin at me and roll onto her other side.

“you’re a LOOOOOVE monster!”

it had been a bad, bad night. ugly arguments. misunderstandings. conflicts of interest. all smoothed over by the unconditional lovin’s i got from YOUR dog. for one lonely night, YOUR bean rocked my world.

i looked for her. more than a few times. i ran into you, once or twice.

eventually i came to understand what had happened.

and that she had, in fact, been yours.

and i thought to myself, i want to know the man that raised that dog.

and so i tried.

still can’t say as that i know you, ksea.

but i know that i still want to. like i wanted to touch her teeth, around your neck, but never had the balls to.

i am not trying to compete with your pain. she was your partner, your love, your best friendy. completely and wholly YOUR dawgy.

i don’t still weep for the loss of your bean.

but goddamn.

i do miss her.

and i miss you.

and for all that you say it is better that you grieve alone, i think that’s bull shit. “if they won’t wear your snot on their sleeves, they aren’t real friends,” or so I say. real friends will gladly hold you until you run our of tears, snot, or sorrow.

and not just which ever comes first….

i’m not afraid or embarrassed by tears, yours or anyone elses.

atleast, thankfully, you still have enough fire in you to tell us to fuck off once in a while.

fuck you, too, pumpkin!

maybe in louisianna.


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