Prologue: Though I’m an occasional redditor, I am not a lurker on this sub, and thus I can’t be sure whether this is the sort of content that is welcome here. It’s also capital-L Long, and a bit of a slow burn. But then if I’m being honest, I’m writing this post as much for my own catharsis as I am for your pervy entertainment. Also, while I pledge to do my best to provide the sort of details that cultivate a literary experience, readers should assume I have exercised editorial license with regard to particularities that might reveal the identities of the parties involved. You never know who’s reading…
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Earlier this year, while standing amidst a sea of people at the main stage of a major music festival, my [34] friend Matt [34] told me he was going to die. The music didn’t stop, but everything inside me went silent. I swiveled to look at him, and as he fought back tears as I could feel my own coming. I tried to summon the right words. When I couldn’t, we stood there together for what seemed like a century, with that god-awful fate filling the space between us, until I could muster the only thing that made sense: “I love you, man.”