Dear Collins,
It's Valentine's Day. February 14^th, the day when you celebrate your love for someone else. I don't think we need that day though. You've seemed to celebrate us being "us" since the night I met you.
Do you remember that night? It seems that nowadays I can't stop thinking about it. Looking back it feels like it was a million years ago, although it actually wasn't more than a couple months. Maybe it's just because I could swear that I've known you all my life. Maybe I'm just inhaling too much car exhaust fumes at my post when I go drumming.
That's probably it. I'm high off of exhaust fumes.
Not like I need exhaust fumes. I don't need anything, now. Do you know exactly how much you've done for me? I quite smoking because of you. Did you know I smoked? Well I did. Not a lot, mind you, but enough. And I stopped, because I just felt like...maybe if I smoked, it would make me less...fit for you.
I can still remember the way you looked at me that first night. I had never had anyone look at me like that. Just so much...feeling behind your eyes, it scared me. Okay, it terrified me. And if you weren't so damn sexy I would have run off screaming, because no one had ever made me feel the way you did. Cane never did anything but hurt me. And Sasha? When he looked at me, I never felt like I was the only person he saw. There were always other things, other places, other people on his mind. There were never any other people on yours.
I know I'm a little selfish. You've got a big responsibility to Roger and Mark, being their best friends and all. And I guess sometimes I take away from time and energy you could be spending helping them. But I love you, can you forgive me for that little bit of selfishness?
Gee I feel silly, writing you this letter for Valentine's Day, when you've probably got some great surprise planned for me. You always do. Even for no occasion at all, you close my eyes and pull me somewhere special. I hope you know I'd be just as happy sitting at our little broken table eating Chinese food straight from the carton and watching rented romance movies.
You said a little while ago that you feel bad, because you can't give me everything I deserve. What is it that I deserve? I don't deserve you. I don't deserve the fact that you work to buy me things instead of spending the salary on yourself. I don't deserve the fact that you give me freedoms no one else ever has. I don't deserve the fact that you are the most amazing, beautiful person I've ever met and you love me, or all people on this earth to love. I'm not a good person. I've not been a good person all my life. I must have done something right, though, to have you so present in my life.
I want you to know I saw you, the other day, with that letter of release. I know that NYU fired you, Collins. I read the letter. It infuriated me. You must have been the best teacher they had, and they fired you because you were openly gay, and they had had problems with gay teachers in the past. Why discriminate against you because of some other pervert's mistake?
I love you anyway. You looked so sad and beaten, like someone had just kicked you really really hard. I don't know if you noticed, but I worked extra hard the rest of the week. You know, to keep up my half of the rent. Which I very rarely pay.
Valentine's Day is today. And I couldn't think of a better person to spend it with. I love you.
-Angel Dumott Schunard
It's Valentine's Day. February 14^th, the day when you celebrate your love for someone else. I don't think we need that day though. You've seemed to celebrate us being "us" since the night I met you.
Do you remember that night? It seems that nowadays I can't stop thinking about it. Looking back it feels like it was a million years ago, although it actually wasn't more than a couple months. Maybe it's just because I could swear that I've known you all my life. Maybe I'm just inhaling too much car exhaust fumes at my post when I go drumming.
That's probably it. I'm high off of exhaust fumes.
Not like I need exhaust fumes. I don't need anything, now. Do you know exactly how much you've done for me? I quite smoking because of you. Did you know I smoked? Well I did. Not a lot, mind you, but enough. And I stopped, because I just felt like...maybe if I smoked, it would make me less...fit for you.
I can still remember the way you looked at me that first night. I had never had anyone look at me like that. Just so much...feeling behind your eyes, it scared me. Okay, it terrified me. And if you weren't so damn sexy I would have run off screaming, because no one had ever made me feel the way you did. Cane never did anything but hurt me. And Sasha? When he looked at me, I never felt like I was the only person he saw. There were always other things, other places, other people on his mind. There were never any other people on yours.
I know I'm a little selfish. You've got a big responsibility to Roger and Mark, being their best friends and all. And I guess sometimes I take away from time and energy you could be spending helping them. But I love you, can you forgive me for that little bit of selfishness?
Gee I feel silly, writing you this letter for Valentine's Day, when you've probably got some great surprise planned for me. You always do. Even for no occasion at all, you close my eyes and pull me somewhere special. I hope you know I'd be just as happy sitting at our little broken table eating Chinese food straight from the carton and watching rented romance movies.
You said a little while ago that you feel bad, because you can't give me everything I deserve. What is it that I deserve? I don't deserve you. I don't deserve the fact that you work to buy me things instead of spending the salary on yourself. I don't deserve the fact that you give me freedoms no one else ever has. I don't deserve the fact that you are the most amazing, beautiful person I've ever met and you love me, or all people on this earth to love. I'm not a good person. I've not been a good person all my life. I must have done something right, though, to have you so present in my life.
I want you to know I saw you, the other day, with that letter of release. I know that NYU fired you, Collins. I read the letter. It infuriated me. You must have been the best teacher they had, and they fired you because you were openly gay, and they had had problems with gay teachers in the past. Why discriminate against you because of some other pervert's mistake?
I love you anyway. You looked so sad and beaten, like someone had just kicked you really really hard. I don't know if you noticed, but I worked extra hard the rest of the week. You know, to keep up my half of the rent. Which I very rarely pay.
Valentine's Day is today. And I couldn't think of a better person to spend it with. I love you.
-Angel Dumott Schunard