I mentioned this in passing a few weeks ago, but it's been reverberating through my mind for a while now. It's been 10 years since River died. I remember hearing the news from a friend on the phone while I was at work. I didn't believe him. I clutched the desk, felt my heart sink, and wanted to make this mistake not take place. He couldn't have died; I hadn't met him yet! Growing up in love during your teens and early twenties with someone famous, who's posters cover your bedroom walls, tends to make you believe that you will meet them someday and they will love you back.

I read every article and watched every tv show about his life and death. I clipped every article and saved every tv show on tape. I even wrote letters of my own to magazines about their articles. Believe it or not, I was even published in Newsweek on the subject of River. I wore all-black clothing for three days straight. I cried in my bed at night. I even promised myself that I would carry on where he had stopped. I saw every movie he was in. I was in love with him before I came out and after. He held true even as I changed. I know all of this sounds hokey and melodramatic, and it is, but I was in love and I was devastated by a loss that was personal for me.

I can't believe it's been ten years since that period. Imagine if he hadn't died and where his career might be. I wonder if I would still be in love or would my interest have waned over the years. My poster of him I've had since that time still hangs on my refrigerator, but is torn and faded and water-stained now. Having died so young, and in fact the same age as me at the time, he lives forever in my mind as he was then. But the memories are somewhat faded and water-stained now too. I also know that in ten years I've changed greatly. But, fundamentally, I am the same person I have always been. And having feelings and emotions for River never did and never will seem silly to me at all. He was always with me even though we never met. I still miss River, everyday.