Ben and I hit up New York City for their gay pride festival some years back and needless to say the entire experience was off the chain. For four days straight we ran through the city like children on a playground. It was a magnificent trip and one of my happiest memories. Ben died in May of this year and I think about him every single day. It’s so gut wrenchingly hard. He made an appearance in one of my dreams recently and I was telling a mutual friend of ours about it.
Me: “Yeah, it was nice. He seemed happy. He was wearing a tie-dyed shirt.”
Friend: “Really? Well, there’s your sign. You said you were waiting for a sign from him.”
Me: “Yeah, I know, but what do you mean? Do you think it’s a sign that he’s happy?”
Friend: “No way. He’s clearly in hell if he’s wearing a tie-dye”.
We laughed for five minutes straight.