Not a crush — I loved this guy

Poem: Upon Learning of Garron’s Passing

He helped me at the time I needed it most

This Photo by Unknown Author is licensed by CC BY-ND — Life is better with friends

You saved my life, you know.
I didn’t get it until I was
today years’ old. But in pondering
who I was when we met on the bus
taking us to Woodglen to start
4th Grade, it was you who promised
hope.

The new kid in town, you couldn’t
know that I was the class pariah.
We hit it off and had a smart
conversation. You impressed me
and I was most pleased my visage
caused you not even once to
blanch.

Our days in classes together
made 4th grade first semester
go by so quickly. I found myself
anxious each night to return
to school! A huge change from
the persecution from before.
Joy.

And that day in the second
semester, when administrative
experiments sundered us,
leaving me bereft in fourth
while you went to a liminal
mish-mash of fourth and fifth
graders.

AI Image created by Author — For the first time in my life, I was carefree.

Did you know I bawled? My fears
overtook me — I was certain
Third Grade Hell would return.
And for a time it did, but I took
matters in my own hands
and wrote up friend/enemies
lists.

Somehow, I found the shield
from naming what is going on
and who is doing it. I pushed
back against the boyriarchy.
Found my own voice and stood
my ground. I think you’d have been
proud.

Fifth grade came for real, and we
were rejoined. What I see now
that 10- to 12-year-old me
could not see, is that you helped
me to fall in love with myself.
Not an easy task. I needed your
eyes.

And what kind eyes they were.
I loved you, and you loved me.
And it was simple. Innocent.
Boyhood pure. My 11th House Sun,
Mars, Saturn needed what you gave.
You gladly showed me how to be
kind.

This Photo by Unknown Author is licensed by CC BY-NC-ND

We were friends but three years,
A short time in Philia’s annals.
But our mutual regard gave me
a firm grounding. And I hope
you received something from me,
besides my eternal gratitude,
grace.

Today, at age 60, I learned you died.
I saw your ever-youthful face
on a gofundme page to raise funds —
to cover costs of your funeral?
I found myself wondering if we
could have been friends still. But now,
No.

I hope you bring joy to souls new
to you wherever you are, Garron.
Spirits like yours need others
to lift up and celebrate. The Gods
lined us up together. All I have now
is this little poem just to thank heaven
for you.

Know this, Garron. You are one of the most
important people I ever met.
I’m certain if we did not come together
I’d have died before adolescence.
I’d have hung myself or run in front
of a bus or somehow found gorgeous.
Death.

Perhaps on some level you knew
just how close to the edge I was?
Misery with drunk dad, controlling
Mom, sibs who hated my smarts.
And the other students who crossed
their arms and refused acceptance.
Shun.

Truly, the Gods had some plan for you
and me. Perhaps in a ritual sometime
soon, I can meet you at a visitors’
fire in the Summerlands. And we can recall
our good times together, during those days
before hormonal pressures barrelled
down.

I would like that, Garron.
And I’ll end it on this simple idea.
I miss you, and I love you.
Forever.