When I was younger, I came across this white man who was speaking fearlessly, and ferociously, against racism. And I was in awe. I was greatly proud of him. And I admired him.

I don’t know how long it’s been. I checked in on him every year or so.

Every year, he seemed to grow more hateful.

It reminds me of another. Sometimes I wonder what happened to Milo Yiannopoulos. The Milo I saw was very nice— very kind— and then, one day, after a two-week-long illness— he changed. And I never saw the kind Milo who wrote articles defending innocents. I never saw the guy who loved Mariah Carey and was oh so adorable.

What can change the nature of a man?

I once saw a man get worse and worse as his cancer ate him alive. He screamed at his wife— even as she was saving him— cursing her very name.

What happens to these people? I’ve watched two people get cancer; I’ve watched their deterioriation.

They got meaner, and meaner; crueler, ever still.

What happened to you, Jim? There is no shame in my voice. There is no judgement here. There is only sadness and bewilderment.

Out of all the strangers I have ever known, at the time I first saw you, I wanted you to win the hardest.

Out of every man I have ever met, every stranger, you were the one I respected the most. And yet, you hated me. You hated me— and I could scarcely understand why.

Years later, I’d hear tell that you’d say hateful things about trans people. Hell, you apparently came up with one of the current major slurs for trans people.



Is that why you hated me?

Was it that? Was that what you hated about me?

I would ask you something, now. But it seems like publicly shaming you. So I won’t.

I dearly hope your cancer goes into remission. I heard what you were going through on what you meant to be your final stream. I wish you would just get better. Even if you hate me for a reason I don’t understand.

When they made fun of you for what happened with Jade, I was one of the only people defending you.

I don’t think you cared.

I don’t know how to feel about that.