I wrote an essay for a young man once. My crush on him was deep and long-abiding. Though not nearly as deep or as long-abiding as his romantic interest in men (and only men, certainly not me!) turned out to be, but it took me quite some time to figure that one out.

Anyway, I was foolish to do this for him, but also: follies of youth. But here is the thing that kills me. He and I are still vaguely friendly and I brought this up to him once, this essay I wrote for him, and HE DIDN'T REMEMBER IT. AT ALL. My gesture was, in the end, that completely meaningless to him. I am so incensed about this, I want to burn the world down. Doing homework for someone never pays. It just never pays.