Last night I had an epiphany; I was still in mourning over the tragic and sudden loss of you several years ago. All these things I avoided to not deal with my pain. I told myself it was silly; I told myself this too much. I ignored the things that brought us joy together because it was too hard. Too, too, too, too. Your face flickering in front of my eyes whenever something reminded me of you. Hiding your shirt in the closet in the back of my house. The book I have of yours collecting dust on my shelf. Telling stories about you and pretending I am all okay. Hoarding the papers I have with your handwriting on them, teaching me more Mandarin when we were out of the country. The only thing I remember is how to order a bowl of rice now. I still miss you so much. I am still so angry you are gone. I didn't even understand the ways you were a positive role model for me, feeling proud to be such a Cabaret fag. I didn't understand how badly I needed somebody like you in my life. You were ripped so suddenly from this realm that I remember collapsing, losing my mind, almost giving everything up because I couldn't bear facing these feelings of loss. It shocked me to my core. I still remember drinking tea with you in bed and you telling me about all the objects in your house like it was yesterday. You getting up to dance around in musical theater class. Your love for Ute Lemper. The way you talked passionately about everything. I wish you were still here. I hope you are proud of me and I don't know if God is real but if they are I hope you've been up there with the angels, singing and playing the piano. If heaven is real, I hope I am making you proud down here with all the things that I have done. Part of me does it all because of you. Part of me is proud to be myself because of you showing me the way. You accepted me for being the flamboyant little theatre boy in turquoise pants and eyeliner and scarves that I was. The hardest part is accepting I may never see you again. I wish you could see me now. I wish I could hug you. I wish we could ride horses in Inner Mongolia and share food. I cherish you. I miss you. I love you, Kent.