Most Mormon gay men born 1976 but not here now
—alive on Earth—didn’t vanish from AIDS;
we killed ourselves before ever losing that virginity.
Some, like me at 18, guessed wrong which whole bottle of pills would actually work, so somehow survived.
Soon after though—Tomislav Katsuic—you somehow showed up to be the young man I finally realized I wanted, who could make it all worth it for me, who made me want to want to be married, regardless of temple ceremonies, the 20th Century Supreme Court, or my family’s would-be-native, ersatz Utah gods.
But, Tommislav? My Tall-dark-haired-and-twenty! It wasn’t until just this year, 2021, when I finally realized your favorite thing about me was the same favorite thing about me as Kamisha’s—the girl who was my only actual girlfriend ever, for a month in high school.
Now—and this is your fault! you did this to me!—whenever I catch, in a fleeting mirrored reflection, a glimpse of my face, I understand my eyes’ hue to almost have been, to in my heart’s heart would-have-been-by-marriage-been and thus still ever still be, eyes the color of Jewish Blue.