For some reason this 3 year mark is having a bit more impact on me than I expected.
In December 1990 John decided to do a photo spread for Male Pictorial. This Picture is from the Feb 1991 edition of that magazine.
In early June 2008 there was a house fire and I lost every picture I had of John and my copies of that particular issue of the magazine. (Thank god almost everything is out on the internet somewhere.)
On June 26th 2008 I lost my friend John too.
Seeing him in this picture is strange and yet it makes me smile.
I remember the mad scramble that morning to get him out the door for the photo shoot.
He’d flown in the day before, spent the night at my place and we were climbing over each other sharing a bathroom that morning.
He was frazzled and had a terrible case of nerves. It was, after all a nude photo shoot. I remember grabbing his dick and pulling him away from the mirror then kissing him on the cheek and whispering in his ear he was going to be great. I gave his cock a squeeze and let go. He stood there then smiled and hugged me from behind while I was brushing my teeth. His eyes weren’t worried anymore he just hugged me then moved me away from the sink chuckling.
I remember the rumbling of his chuckle in his chest, the warmth of his body against mine, and laughing when I realized I’d be finishing my teeth at the kitchen sink. I was finishing at he kitchen sink because he’d picked me up, turned and set me in the doorway of the bathroom.
Then he’d commandeered the bathroom mirror again. His eyes were confident and self assured again.
He was great, and himself, he was strong, beautiful, and at the top of his game.
We were like that with each other from almost the moment we met. There was an honesty, playfulness, and genuineness between us. I suppose it was love for each other right from the beginning, like brothers that had never met.
That we became friends was amazing. Our friendship never should have happened.
He became the boyfriend of the first man I ever slept with. By rights we should have been cordial and then never spoken to each other again.
At that point in my life I was having a difficult time with many issues about me. That John was yet another replacement for me… ( I was a miserable bastard and I made others around me just as miserable.) …meant that we should have been enemies at once.
We weren’t enemies. John was the best, he was a great man. He was a Marine. He was also a much better man than I was at the time.
John taught me about duty, responsibility, loyalty, and friendship. It was through him that I ended up being “adopted” by a small group of Marines and while I was not a Marine, these guys treated me like one of their own.
I ended up being their “Go-To” guy. If they were in trouble, needed a ride, had too much to drink or in general just needed to go to ground and cool out for a while. My home was always open to the guys… as was my fridge.
John lived with me for a time. And before you start making assumptions that you shouldn’t. Yes, we were close, yes I loved him and still do. We NEVER fucked, we shared a bed occasionally… it was only for sleep.
He was like a brother. Yeah he was sexy as hell and one night we were both horny and I think we were going to help each other out.
When we kissed in a tongue down your throat way… it felt way too much like incest! I seem to recall jerking myself off in the bedroom and he did the same in the living room.
After the infamous kiss, we decided that sex wasn’t in the cards for us but our friendship grew to depths I’d never expected or knew I could experience.
Through the years we kept in touch and whenever it was possible we saw each other.
He’s the friend that came up with the saying “A lot of guys just aren’t worth getting the kiddie pool out, mixing the J-Lube, and getting naked.”
I knew John was a kinky FUCK from the kink catalogs that kept showing up in my mail… But that description about the kiddie pool, delivered at dinner with my folks, has always stuck with me.
John had this way of saying the weirdest stuff and getting away with it. I think he could have suggested that nuns and priests in his Parish be issued vibrators with their vows. He could have made the suggestion to The Pope without being excommunicated.
The last Time I saw him was at Christmas 2006 or 2007. I told him how much I loved him then. The hug he gave me said it all.
I suspected that he might have been sick, either HIV or something else. Something seemed off, but John didn’t want to discuss it and I respected his wish.
I just didn’t know how sick or how little time we had left.
In early 2008, I heard from his Sister that he’d been in a hospital in FL.
John hadn’t told me. The hell of it was that I have family in the area and rather than him being alone in a hospital room they would have looked in on him. My folks liked him and my Mom never failed to make sure he knew he was invited to their house for the holidays.
His Sister called me to let me know that she was moving him back to their home town and that I should probably plan to visit soon.
Then my house burned, and I was so busy dealing with that I couldn’t get away to see him one last time.
I got the word that he’d died one afternoon while I was at work. I was reeling from the fallout of the fire. The news was more than I could take at that moment I started crying in my little cubicle.
That is the first and only time I’ve cried as an adult in a public place.
I’m glad he died at home surrounded by family. I wish I could have been there to hold him and tell him again that I loved him.
In the end, his death was a mercy. In addition to the HIV infection, he’d contracted some strange kind of cancer that destroyed his spine. He was in a lot of pain and due to the pain killing drugs was pretty much out of it.
I love him and remember him as a drop dead handsome man with a heart of gold. I miss him and the world is a little less bright without John in it.
The picture above is from the funeral announcement. I missed the funeral. It was held in his home town, attended mostly by family and his high school friends. At some point when we can all afford it, his sister wants to meet in FL for a memorial service and spread his ashes as sea.
I think John would like that…
I love you buddy, Thank you for loving me back, and for all the adventures, inspiration, and lessons you shared with me.
