Vasya met me at the Unitarian Church in the University District in Seattle.   He was my friend and we became lovers too in an odd fashion.  I don't remember much about the physical things we did. 

   I do remember that he was a Virgo and brought me an ice cream cone once that had twelve different flavors of sherbet.  We were in college together in the Russian Language Department.  When I met him at the church I was living in Russian House at the University of Washington about 1967.   That was an old house where students could only speak Russian and the boys lived on the first floor and the girls on the second floor.  We had a wonderful house mother, Nina Nikolievna and her Asian husband Ono San.  They cooked wonderful Russian Food for us and made sure we learned Russian.

   Vasya was still my friend when I moved out with my girlfriend from Russian House and soon her boyfriend joined us.  We had lots of fun.  Vasya came with a crowd of people and we had great parties.  Then I moved to my own little apartment.  He told me I wouldn't be happy living alone and doing all the dishes myself.  He would come over to my place and draw.  He could do very realistic things easily.   I remember we slept in a pull down bed in that little place and during the day we put it back in the closet.  

    Well that is not all that was in the closet.  Vasya was gay.  He later came out to me by introducing me to his new lover years later when my husband and I had moved out of Seattle.  He was so happy with his new found life.  It all makes sense now that I can't remember anything we did in bed together.  I do remember our wonderful friendship.

   Then Vasya was shot to death five times in the back.  His new lover called to tell me that he had gone East of the Mountains for a job and in the parking lot where he was returning to the trailor that he was staying in someone shot him.  I don't know any more details than that.  It could have been a robbery or it could have been motivated by hatred of Gays.

  I miss him.

  This time of year triggers so many memories of past lovers.  It is the first Valentine day for me after the death of my boyfriend last May and I miss him.  I know he would have found the perfect card for me and put a bit of Godiva chocolates in a little bag too.   He once bought me two Valentine cards because they were both perfect. 

    He was not perfect.  He had been a bank robber and he was a sad character who did not have love from his mother and so was very needy.  But he loved me and was strong and brave right up to the end.  I treated him as well as you can treat any alcoholic.  We had three good years together and one bad one.  He died and I miss him but it was time for him to go.

   So here I am flirting with another fellow or two and I am not lonely.  The birds and the bees are flitting all around me and I am eager to keep gathering the honey.  I am a sensual lady who isn't afraid of much.  Death is part of life and not to be feared.   Nothing lasts forever and that is why everything is so precious.