Dear Abby in third grade,

You were the first

We played house, I was always the dad

We played prom, I was the boyfriend

We played kissing practice,

I was your mistake.

Dear Emileigh in fifth grade,

Endless those hours

controllers in sweaty little palms

eager button mashing,

laughter.

I still have all the games we played

I admitted to a crush;

no more sleepovers.

Dear Amanda in eighth grade,

I'm not a faggot.

Filthy words out of such a pretty mouth,

and they don't suit you.

Matt Shepard didn't deserve it

You can't convince me otherwise.

Dear Dani my freshman year,

You were the best two days of my life.

With you I was free

for the first time.

I'm sorry I was scared.

Dear Halley my sophomore and junior year,

You were the teenage dream,

the one who set the standard.

I was a puppet on your strings;

but I'm immune to regret.

Fly away, little sparrow.

Dear Blake my senior year,

I thought I was going to marry you.

 Wish I'd known what you'd do

before I decided I wanted to.

Dear Lissa my first year of college,

You were my idol,

a radical feminist behind the coffee counter,

an opinion on everything,

tattoos on her thighs,

beads in her hair.

Being lesbian was never a secret for you;

she wore it like a badge of honor.

Dear every girl I've ever loved,

You crushed me. You saved me.

I opened everything,

mind, heart, wrists,

over your existence.

It was worth it, all of it,

good and bad.

I'll miss you

I love you

You mattered.

 

Dear Me,

You're bigger now, stronger

You're no dyke, faggot, butch, homo

You're not who loves you.

You're a person, plain and simple,

You have nothing to be ashamed of.

You are gay, not an abomination.

Keep your mind and heart open

keep your wrists closed.

This world is changing, and you'll be

equal in it, someday.