Author: Benjamin C. Roy Cory Garrett Rev History Rev .00 - 09/11/2014 Rev .01 - 03/10/2022 Author’s Note: A letter with no one to send it to.
Letter to Michael…
Yesterday, I was thinking about that time we walked around downtown Kirksville with balloons stuffed into the front of our trousers. I still can’t believe it was you that came up with such a silly and ridiculous idea. Michael—the stoic resistance fighter—the one who would live and die by The Revolution—came up with an elaborate boner joke.
All the marches, all the covert direct actions, all the arguments and day-long consensus meetings—where we bared and bashed our souls together to build a collective movement—and all I want to think about is our adolescent boy antics. The moments I will never forget you for you.
- Drawing penises on deer crossing signs in Iowa.
- Throwing bowling balls into couches to see how high they could fly.
- PandaMoanium: In the Streets!
- And that night we had nothing better to do than stuff our pants and make a big show of grabbing each other’s crotches.
Nobody knows if that nail bomb you were building went off on purpose.
Maybe not even you.
But I know I have a terrible habit of hurting people I care about. I know that I am also prone to egomania and assuming everything bad that happens is something I should have been able to prevent. But in this case, I know that we never did talk again after that night in the Aquadome, about what that meant to either of us, or actually anything, ever again. The next day, I ran away to Minnesota and you dropped out of school and moved back in with your folks.
It is pointless to pretend like I am not blaming myself for your death, but even more than giving a shit about my guilt, I just wish I could have told you how much I love you, and how much I miss you now.
Heart,
benjamin