Dave Lara

I was stationed at Quantico, Virginia.

And I was discharged for the crime of being a homosexual.

It was less than honorable.

I packed my uniforms and the five medals I had been awarded into my sea bag.

And as I left the base for the last time, I threw it into a dumpster.

I had been so proud of my medals, but my less than honorable discharge erased them from my service record.

I went to Arlington where Matt is buried and I promised him I would do something to change the world so that men like he and I could serve honorably.

In the 1970s, I became a soldier in the gay rights movement, and I helped establish the first gay men's service center in Los Angeles.

In the 80s, I joined an AIDS activist group called ACT UP, and we were petitioning the government to find treatments for the disease.

And in the 2000s, I became members of veterans groups of Iraq and Afghanistan veterans

to show by my presence that you could survive what war does to you.

I still have Matt's Zippo.

It's the same shape as his tombstone, like all the headstones there at Arlington.

You know what, I'm not bitter.

The Navy gave me more than it took.

It gave me wisdom.

It gave me Matt.

And I have kept Matt's lighter as a reminder of the best time of my life and of a man

I still love.

I've been asked, what would I say to Matt if I could sit down with him right now?