Fall

Dear Lorenzo,

It's Thursday, October 21, 12:42 p.m. and today I am going to be brave and tell you a few of the things I've been too scared to say until now.

I'm pretty far gone.

I had no idea that this was going to happen but...

It's happening. 

My father was my favorite person on this planet. He gave me James Baldwin and Toni Morrison and Langston Hughes and the Harlem Renaissance and Malcolm X and the Black Panther Party and the Naked Gun and The Marx Brothers and Toscanini's and Mary Chung's and August Wilson and Alvin Ailey and Miles Davis and John Coltrane and Chick Corea and so very many of the best memories of my life.

When I walked into Cap's apartment over Labor Day Weekend, all these years later, a part of me felt like I was coming home again.

I spent many, MANY years imagining this moment. I loved him for a really long time and even when I realized that I couldn't love him anymore...

I loved him still.

He is patient and hilarious and too-fucking-smart-for-his-own-good. He is kind, open-minded, and non-judgmental. He loves my friends because they're his friends too and he still has pictures of us as teenagers on Portland Street and Chestnutt Street and Pleasant Street and I swear to God I didn't realize how important that was until I let you take it away from me (which was MY fault, NOT YOURS).

He helped me through a rough period of my life as a young adult and then did it again twenty some odd years later when you died. The truth of the matter is, I've spent a lot of time and energy trying not to let these feelings reemerge but... 

I couldn't do it.

And now...

I don't want to do it anymore.

Daddy was my hero and every man I've ever truly loved has reminded me of him in some way or another, including you, but...

Especially him. Especially Cap.

The music, the art, the books, the manners, the protectiveness.

The pride when I accomplish even the smallest of feats.

No matter how hard I fought against it...

Maggie was right.

I was always going to end up falling all over again.

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