Hey guys, this story is now featured in the first issue of Up. Check it out!
New Year's Eve, popping balloons; our fireworks. No light but the moths were shooting stars that night and the sprinklers were our impromptu sex toys. Then in 1987 I was in love with you, a boy, I was a boy. A little Puff the Magic Dragon in the back of your brother's Datsun 120-Y station wagon but we both knew it wasn't the drugs. We shared a sleeping bag at religion camp, so tight and we bathed naked in the stream and we could see our toes on the rocks; it was cold. The water was clear and when my sneakers melted by the fire you let me wear one of yours and we laughed. Our eyes were our hands and how long we held on I couldn't say but to this day I can draw your face from memory and I do.
Now when we meet at church or at work our hands are our eyes and we shake and we sweat. Things have changed but I will go back in time and you will go back in time and we will be the men we never became.