Steve

On Saturday, standing in one of my favorite Austin bakery/coffee shops, I received some terrible news that I was not expecting.

Dave, who still works at Quacks after all these years (10+), told me that my beloved ex-boyfriend, Steve, had hung himself in May. Unaware, I was in the middle of telling Dave that the last time I saw Steve was a year ago when I came to Austin to look for a place to live. I called Steve up to see if he wanted to grab a beer and hang out after not having seen him since I moved away from Austin (like 8 years ago). We spent the evening on South Congress, shared some beers at the Continental Club and walked for hours back in the neighborhood in the middle of the night, philosophizing and talking about everything, critiquing recent books and movies, just like we used to do. We talked in low voices that seemed to hang in the heavy night air like a timeless period - as if we had gone back in time to the "good old days".

Except there was a difference: I had never seen him happier than he was that night. Things were going really well for him. He had an amazing apprenticeship doing tattoos and he had finally found a way to express himself after years of searching. He'd traveled, he'd been in and out of school, he'd worked at all the coffee shops, he painted and drew and wrote poetry, but now he knew what he wanted. While I still sensed hints of depression, and while he still referred to being lost and feeling out of sorts, I saw something in his eyes I hadn't seen before: Hope. Security. Confidence.

For the first time in years, I finally had his permanent number in my phone (I always had to call his family to track him down in the past while he was moving around so much). And I told him I would call him when I got back to Austin. Of course, I got pregnant the day I got here and lost my mom a couple months later, but I always intended to call him to have coffee, but "something" always came up. I am painfully learning the lesson that I need to call people when I think of them or I may never again have the chance.

I wanted to see his portfolio. I wanted to hear about the progress he was making. I wanted to catch-up on any drama-filled relationships he was having. I wanted to see his gentle smile and hear his deep and friendly voice. While he was an ex-boyfriend from long ago, he always meant so much to me. I knew I would always care very deeply about him and would always want to stay in touch. He was one of the most passionate people I had ever known, someone I was always proud to say that I knew. I am devastated that I never really told him that as a friend. He was a beautiful person. I can't believe he's gone.

Now I can't escape the flashbacks of our time together, back to the days I spent trying to catch his attention. I'd study in that coffee shop day after day, hoping he'd notice me as more than just a college girl that drinks too much coffee and studies too much (at the same place). I would coolly order my coffee from him (a cortado which I had learned to drink on my recent visit to Spain), and I would absorb the music he was playing and watch him banter with his coworker (Dave) behind the counter. All my friends knew where to find me: I'd be quietly chasing the hottest guy in town. Then one day, I got back to my table with my coffee and noticed it had a heart drawn into the foam. Then I looked up to find him standing there next to me, and he asked in his deep and amazing voice, "Do you want to go for a walk?"

From there, we shared some of the best days of my life. A young and passionate love affair that I will never forget. In our youngness, we discovered so much together and developed small pieces of ourselves that would either stay apart of us forever or vanish. He introduced me to so much that is still such a strong part of me to this day. I will always associate some things that I still love with him and our time together. I wish I could have told him that, too.

Steve, I was late to the game. I'm so sorry I missed you. I should have called. I wish I would have told you how special you are to me. You're one of the most talented people I've ever met. Your art leaves me without words. People are honored to wear your creations on their bodies until they die. Much like when I met you, I never stopped admiring you from afar. Your smile and gentle spirit will never, ever escape me. I will never forget it. I never have. I wish you could have seen the beauty inside of yourself. I hope you've found the peace for which you've been searching. Your beauty still lives on as you do in so many ways. You live on in the hearts of many, and on their bodies, too. And you will never leave my heart.

Video of Steve:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zrhu9ELIyzI

A Guest Book for Steve:
http://www.legacy.com/gb2/default.aspx?bookID=3625079481784

His Art:
http://www.stevegrosskopf.com/tattooalbum/index.html