To Ryanne,

To appease myself, my select friends, and maybe you.

Ryanne, you were one of the lights I needed to ask for. I have been driven by people I’ve met. I’ve been driven by people I’ve read. I’ve met my mother. I’ve met Dr. Cornel West. I’ve met Bryanna Rogriguez (she’s a friend who asked me to write this). I’ve read Vladimir Lenin. I’ve read Malcolm X. I’ve read Martin Luther King Jr. — extensively.

Each one has taught me love, in a way. My father, who I hated for many years, taught me love in many ways. My brother, who does not answer knocks at the bedroom door, but does answer every phone call, taught me love. You taught me to love.

We walked a challenging line. We balanced. I think we got upset. Balance was never balanced. I haven’t thought of it in a while.

Maybe I shouldn’t think about it now. A friend pushed me. I thank her. I should think about it.

Why was it hard? Ryanne, why are we thousands of miles away?

Ryanne, why did our love grow violent?

You found love.

You did.

I see it.

It wasn’t violence.

I was lonely.

I was alone.

I’m still alone.

How do I find you?

Love, I’m searching for you.

Love, I play tough.

Love, I play strong.

Love, I’m a phony.

But I want you.

Ryanne, you left me hurt.

The joke is I ran from you.

I itch for you now.

I scratch for you now.

All I want is something like you now.