The espresso cups

I remember sitting in the drawing class at school on a big table with my best friend Susan and the cutest guy in our class Steven with a big bouquet of sunflowers in the middle that we were instructed to draw. The class always started with an unorthodox introduction to art history by our teacher. This time he had talked about murals and graffitis and the work of Keith Haring. When we went back to our tables to start drawing Steven asked me "Do you know why Keith Haring died?" I feared the worse and said "No?". Because he was a faggot and liked being fucked in the ass, he said. Freddie Mercury died of the same... another pervert that also liked being fucked in the ass! he added.
No comment, silence. I looked at Susan, she shook her head and continued with the drawing of the sunflowers. I continued too, but I felt sadness, fear, anger. I was still in the closet then.
A few years later, after my coming-out I invited Susan to my first flat on my own. She had a present with her. Two espresso cups. She asked, do you remember? Yes, I said. Beauty persists and we keep on dancing with life like Keith Harings guys, she added. This was healing!