Charlie's Pen Pal

Dear Charlie,

I just found out you died, which means you outlived me by two years.

Bravo.

The upside to being dead is that as soon as I died, my soul reverted to its twenty-one year-old self.

I forgot how good I looked!

Look at my ass!  Is your ass ever as perfect as it is when you're twenty-one?

I never saw your ass, Charlie, but judging by how witty you were, I'm guessing it was pretty sweet.

Witty people have great asses.

Maybe there's a connection there.

Remember the first thing I wrote to you when we were kids?

'Dear Charlie, I am nine.  I am cool.  Be my friend.  Sincerely, Me.'

It's funny how little you change
Between eight and death

I was always cool
And always demanding
That people love me
Including you
Even though you never acquiesced

You kept throwing that gay/straight thing around

Now that I'm dead
And my body has crossed into the spiritual realm
My genitals have turned into clouds in the sky
As I'm guessing yours have too

Would you love me now, Charlie?

Now that gay/straight only means clouds in the sky
And waves on the beach?

How many other pen pals do you think stayed friends with each other their whole lives?

I'm pretty proud of us, Charlie

We outlasted every marriage I know

I think I fell in love with you
When you started sending me those short stories
In high school

You were in so much pain
More so even than the average teenager
And I kept telling you to move to Phoenix
Where I was living

I said I would tell my parents
That you were a foreign exchange student
From a war-torn country
Like Spain or Canada
But you never showed up

You stayed where you were
Even after the first divorce
And the second
And friends dying
And family disappearing
And all those years
When I knew you were sitting on a couch somewhere
Looking at a wall

Why didn't you just come find me, Charlie?

Why did you keep me two stamps away from you
At all times?

Do you know where I was?

Still in Phoenix
Sitting on a couch
Looking at a wall

An old gay guy
Who time got away from

I had good years
Probably more than you had
But I died alone
Staring at that clock you sent me
For my last birthday

I wrote a note
And left it on my fridge
Saying that if there was an emergency
Please notify my sister
And Charlie

And I left both addresses

I don't know if they ever did notify you, Charlie
But if they did
I hope the news didn't ruin your day

Your letters were always the best part
Of whatever day they showed up on
And I hope mine were the same for you

Sometimes I exaggerated a little bit
So that you wouldn't know
I was living such a sheltered life

So stuck in neutral
So scared to go explore

Remember that story I told you
About getting caught in a rainstorm
In Paris

Hiding out under the awning to a hat shop
With a Parisian named--Oh God, what did I say his name was?

Luke?

Was it Luke?

I remember saying
He kissed me
And the rain stopped
And the sun appeared

I guess you taught me a few things about writing, huh Charlie?

It was a good story

Too bad it never happened

In my mind, Luke looked a lot like you

But you might have already guessed that

Ah well, I should finish this letter
Our last, I would imagine
But who knows?

Time is a tricky thing
To predict
Some think
It might go on forever

Either way
I'll end with a happy thought

Do you know that when I died
I closed my eyes an old man
And woke up outside a hat shop in Paris
And it was raining
And then a man walked up to me
And kissed me
And it stopped raining

And we walked out
Into the sun

I suppose Heaven is every gorgeous lie you've told on Earth
Becoming real
Becoming true