We Met Once
admin — Thu, 08/13/2009 - 18:45
Dear Jane, I met You Once.
It happened in the park. I was walking my dog at the time—a mean spirited Dachshund that turned into a softy after a bit of steak. You jogged by—not like like a fitness nut, but more like a kid running, laughing all the while. Fritz nearly tripped me, and started growling at the hold up. But, how could I have ignored you? I’ve been queer as a three dollar bill since the day my mom pushed me out, but no one could ignore you. Especially not someone as far in the closet as me.
I know you lived once, so other people must know too. I don’t know why they’re keeping quiet, why they won’t admit that they know you. I worry that they saw you like I did, just a glimpse running past. Maybe you weren’t that girl, maybe she was just so pretty that even a withered fruit like me noticed her and wished for a longer glance, to see if the first impression could last. I can’t stand to think that that’s true, that we all got our wish, so now you’re on a slab, letting everyone have a good look at you.
Regardless, I’m sorry.
—Anonymous