Dear Donimo,
All these years of knowing and admiring you from a friendly distance, from your volunteer shifts at the Odd Ball and seeing you at so many great queer events, being that handsome, dapper fella at Sarah’s side. I’m heartsick to hear of your passing. These two decades, I often felt like the loud one at the party, sometimes just too big and unwieldy, too gay, too weird, too femmey, and then I’d see you, out in the world too, and you’d be sweet and kind and patient and attentive with me, and… I felt more comfortable being this sissy. Your calmness, your watcher’s eye, your smile and generosity and warmth, they always made me feel more at home. You put people at ease, just by being you, so thoroughly possessing yourself. Even the last time we saw each other, I remember you struggling to come down the stairs, but you wanted to come say hello, and I should have told you how much it touched me, how *seen* I felt, every time we interacted, how fond I was of you, how admiring. I so admired you for your grace and steadiness, your handsome good looks and perfect hair, your bright smile, and your gentleness. May all the joys of the world flow through you; you deserve every one.