The Honeys

by Ryan La Sala

Death isn’t the end of a life, but the division of it. When someone dies, their soul scatters into all the things they’ve ever given away. Love. Bruises. Gifts. You struggle to piece together what’s left—even the things that hurt—just to feel haunted.

I know people think being queer is, like, very fabulous and full of witty repartee and all that, but sometimes it’s also crying in the bathroom of an Applebee’s somewhere near Margaretville, New York, while Rihanna’s “S&M” plays on the speakers for the early-bird crowd.

From a physicist’s perspective, a person is never really gone. They’ve just changed forms. The energy and particles that make them up have disorganized, merged back with the world, united with nature in cycles that are eternal.

“Death isn’t the end,” she says. “It’s just when we become everything else.”