Rest in Peace.
I googled an old friend of mine tonight. We met at a camp for kids with HIV when I was sixteen. He was thirty-two, but wildly immature; we had a lot of fun. We discovered we lived on the same street, in Schellville, which was a decent stretch from the lake in Santa Rosa where camp was held, so we started car pooling. After the end of camp we just kind of kept hanging out. He considered himself my dashing gay uncle, buying me Curve, taking me to see Sandra Bernhardt and sneaking me into a boring-ass fern bar after. For