Michael C. Peterson

Mike, Mike, Mike. When I think of Mike I think of the only guy that has consistently persued a purely platonic relationship with me in a world where every other guy is hardly able to keep his hands off me. We met in 7th grade and he told our friend, Byron (at that point only Mike's friend cause I hadn't had a chance to meet Byron yet) to stay away from me because I was a total bitch. How's that for a first impression? The following year the three of us had every single class together and by the end of the year we were about inseperable. Unfortunately just as that school year ended Mike's family moved away and our relationship began to fade. But we've fought to keep in touch and I can't thank God enough that we've done so. Mike is my spiritial ass-kicker. He's the guy that taught me to slow dance. Mike is the guy that built a hammock of branches in the forest behind his house and as much as I still can't believe it, it held us both. Mike is also the only other person that shares my obsession with Mortal Kombat. In any case, he is probably the only person I actually feel safe with but am at the same time terrified of. I just know that one of these days he's gonna snap and realize that he too wants me. But in the mean time, I trust him with my life, which is a hard thing for me to say about anyone.

Hey Mikey, thanks for teaching me trust.