Tiny Love Stories: ‘He Watched My Father's Feet'

New York Times

3 days ago

Young, Hungover and at Home With Each Other
The summer before 9/11, we were in Brooklyn — broke, sunstruck, hating our jobs, dreaming big, both aspiring artists. Most nights ended with fried chicken at an East Village gay bar. That's what led to this photo, taken after an all-nighter, on a bench in Tompkins Square Park. Josh, my gay best friend, gave me safety, humor and the kind of platonic queer love I didn't yet know how to name. We've lived through abuse, heartbreak, a studio fire, family deaths and cross-country moves — and we still talk daily. People don't say it enough: A gay bestie can save your life. — William J. O'Brien
Owen and the Dragon
I met my husband, Owen, at a party. We were both wearing St. George and the Dragon medallions — and took this to be a sign. Owen was brilliant but self-absorbed. I worked hard but was self-lacerating. Once, Owen joked: If he died in a car accident, I'd respond, 'It's my fault.' But if I died the same way, he'd reply, 'Who's Carole?' We both laughed; it was slightly true. We split after seven years. Recently, Owen died. I was moved to be included in his will. Owen hadn't forgotten me, and I knew his death was not my fault. — Carole Levin
Want all of The Times? Subscribe.