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Permission granted by author for anyone to distribute this
writing free of charge (including translation into any
language)...under condition that no profit is made therefrom,
and that it remain intact and complete, including title and 
credit to the original author.

Ezekiel J. Krahlin

(A True Tale From The Castro. Eat your heart out, Armistead!)

© 2001 by Ezekiel J. Krahlin

October 1, 2001

I'M SORRY, (raven-haired) Ian SOLDIER! Please forgive me, as
I forgive you. It was terrible for you to suddenly just dump
me like a piece of shit, after we had become such good
friends. For me, it was four months of I know it
was for you. (And we had already become friends for almost a
year before you started visiting.) After waiting a while for
you to return to make things up, I realized you never were
going to. So I decided that, since you play hard ball, I'd
play it teach you a lesson...which I call TOUGH LOVE.
You have caused me much grief by gossiping about me to
EVERYONE in The Castro, with savage lies and distortions of
the truth...making people see me as a bumbling, faggoty fool.
Surely, there is a lot of HOMOPHOBIA going on with you, sad to

I miss being in your arms A WHOLE LOT; sharing a little fun
together, relaxing and talking about whatever. I felt
IMMENSELY HONORED to give you an occasional break from the
mean streets. But what happened to the dignity we found in
each other's embrace and affections? There was no sex,
sweetheart, only some nice hugs, kisses, and with
your shirt off so I could lick that lovely chest of
yours...and me, getting that wonderful back rub and foot
massages! It was SO WONDERFUL for me to show you that I care
so much about you, that sex need never enter the picture...not
for a hundred years, not for a million...if it would in any
way violate our friendship. (Not that I wouldn't, if/when you
want gorgeous dude!)

On the last day you visited, you said you don't want to get
close, and that it was just all an act on your part. No, Ian,
I know better. Do you think I'm stupid? I loved a Vietnam
Veteran for many years, and learned a lot about love and male
bonding, from My Randolph. He ALSO had a sadistic streak, like
you...and a drug problem. Never in my life did I think I'd
ever love another, more than I still do Randolph...who is but
a ghost in my life, since he disappeared in 1991. I believe he
is still alive, and will return some day. But then you stole
my heart, Ian, and most surprising of all, was that I love
you MORE than even Randolph. I don't understand why my life
should take this sudden twist, but I want to say this:

If you accept my overtures of renewed friendship, there is no
way I'd ever dump you for Randolph (or anyone else). Really.
Now, I'm sorry if this letter has embarrassed or angered you,
because I had to present it in this public manner. But what
choice do I have? You scream at me when I try to talk with refuse to accept a written message from me, even
when delivered by another...and you have never bothered to
visit me ever again. You're quite the drama queen, my dear

I never deserved to be threatened with violence on your part,
nor with you encouraging others to bash me. (At most, I might
be a pest, but that does not justify violence.) That is plain
vulgar, and I don't know if I could ever really trust you
enough again, as I came to trust you for a few months. I don't
even think it's the right thing for me to do, at this point,
to accept you back into my life as we were...for I have never
allowed any relationship to continue, if a buddy threatens
violence to me, in any way. I don't know how you could make up
for this, enough to win my friendship back. But I just wanted
you to know the love in my heart for you, that remains
always...even though getting back together goes against my own
self-worth. Had you not added violent threats to your other
offenses, I would not be so wary. But I do forgive you, Ian.
That's a guarantee.

SO, YOU WIN, Ian! Since you seem to want so badly, not to
have me around again, ever...I can give you that. I can hang
out other places, and leave the Castro all to you. I'll go to
other neighborhoods, here and in Berkeley. I'll assume this is
what you'd like, unless you otherwise inform me on my
answering machine. Though I'll MISS very much all the other
great street friends I've made, who AREN'T so hostile to me.
Especially Dexter. I have also desIaned all my buttons and
button machine, as a sacrificial prayer to God, that somehow,
some way, you'll pull through and make things up to me. I do
worry about you a whole lot, Ian...I don't ever want to lose
you to prison or overdose...even if we never see each other

With much affection (and totally stressed out),


P.S.: Also, I gave away my wonderful bicycle, because it's
just too sad to ride it any more. That's because you once gave
me encouraging, cheerful words to encourage me on my new in, day out, over the weeks and months. That was
such a kind thing to do, that I often thought of you while
riding. But now, well...let's just say I don't think I'll ever
bicycle again. But it was great while it lasted.