It’s funny to know how many female hearts you have broken, but I would never let you break mine. I know that you like males as opposed to females, and I’m fine with that. However, I can’t deny the fact that you’re one of the best friends I have ever had. And when we just sit there, smoking in the cold, we both know that our mutual depression is based on our loneliness. You contemplate slitting your wrists like Richard Tenenbaum, and I contemplate flying off of a tall building. I relate to you more than anyone else in the world. I tell you I wonder if I was meant to be born a gay man. This would explain my broad shoulders and lack of breasts. You tell me you wonder if it would be easier to fake it and pretend to like females… but nothing would change the fact that you fear the “big bloody hole.”
Sitting on the steps, inhaling and exhaling. I know that I can’t help you with your depression, but you know I would listen to anything you have to say. You know I would never tell you the hidden desires I have for a mutual friend, but you realize how obvious I am. Everything is understood and never expressed. You are the best friend I could ever wish for. In a few years, I will not regret that my only memories I have of this beautiful campus is of this pillar we smoke by. When stressed, we smoke together. When happy, we smoke together. You better believe we smoke together when depressed.
You’re the best, and if you weren’t gay, I think I’d be in love with you.