Letter Three

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Dear Dean,

After a certain someone, cafes lost their appeal.
You made them fun again.

I expected to spend spring break wearing minimal clothing and doing body shots off Julio.
Which, I mean, I kind of did.
But, only at night.

Because my days were filled with you and little hole in the wall coffee joints.
Everyday was a new aesthetic.
Some were spent at 99 cent cups of coffee places.
Others in bougie $5.99 fillings with dragon or phoenix foamy designs.

And food.
So much food.

I never got hungover during the whole week because you stuffed me full of food hours before.

After a certain someone, living lost its appeal.
You and I found that will to live again.

Death is like love.
We all handle it in different ways.

Dove found a place to put down roots.
That's what she needed after tragedy struck.
She needed to feel grounded again.

I ran away.
That's what I needed after tragedy struck.
I needed to feel free again.
(I needed to go somewhere where no one knew my name.
I needed to find somewhere where Stella could finally breathe)

You ran away.
That's what you needed after tragedy struck.
You needed to feel free again.
(You needed to go somewhere where no one knew your name.
You needed to find somewhere where you could be gay and finally breathe)

Dove faced backlash for standing strong with those that faced trampled rights.
I faced sexual assault and watched my assaulter jailed for a separate but equal crime.
You faced gay bashings but found your call in counseling and suicide prevention.

Death is like love.
We all handle it in different days.

I like to think we three came out pretty good.
All things considered.

Dean, I'm sad you can't attend my dinner tonight.
Especially since everyone's now got it in my head that I might be proposed to!
However, I'm so proud of you.
You've got a pretty noble reason to miss out on all the fun.

Not many people have the strength to stay up all night with one of their suicidal youths.
But you do.
I'm proud of you, Dean.

I know Blake would be too.

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