Goodbye to You, My Trusted Friend

Arpad Miklos (Peter Kozma) 11 September 1967 - 3 February 2013

As we reflect on the life of a dear friend whose love and light were taken from us far too soon, I'm reminded of all that he has taught and given me throughout our time together. To many he was known as Arpad Miklos, a sex god among men whose mere presence commanded attention and reverence. He was one of my first big porn crushes but over time he simply became Peter, a gentle giant, true friend, and confidant; he was my funny bunny.

When first we met two years ago through the RentBoy and porn circuit I was beside myself with excitement at having finally met the man whose videos and performances got me through my awkward teenage years. I was surprised to find such a genuinely sweet and kindhearted man underneath the chiseled features and muscular physique. We quickly bonded over lame jokes and having a similar sense of humor, giving start to a friendship bound by a lot of love and laughter.

He was my mentor and, despite of the generational gap between us, we shared a lot in common including a deep mutual respect for one another. Peter acted as a big brother for me, overprotective yet allowing me to make and learn from my own mistakes. He led by example and selflessly looked after his own.

I hated New York City when I first moved here and complained about everything from the cold and obnoxious cost of living to the difficulty in being able to find a niche and form a close group of friends to call my own. Peter was one of the first people to have faith in me and help me grow a tougher skin while still staying true to who I am as an individual. He admired my bravado, intelligence, and charisma, noting how he was inspired by my ability to be so open and honest with myself at such a young age. He meant more to me than he will ever know and, although our schedules hardly permitted a lot of time to spend with one another, I cherish each and every moment we shared.

Yesterday we held his public memorial service at G Lounge here in New York City where some of his closest friends, family, and fans were able to come together and celebrate his life over drinks, hugs, laughter, and tears but most of all with love. I admittedly had a difficult time keeping it together and not shedding a tear during the entire service. This was only made more difficult when I walked in and saw his smiling face on a poster, greeting everyone at the door. Sitting down to write in his book I held back tears until a conversation we had a few months ago came back to me, "I don't want to see you frowning," he said, "your smile is a big reason we're friends. Let it shine, it's contagious. See?"

Honoring his wishes I walked over to the bar and did exactly what he would have wanted and expected me to do, so I ordered a gin and tonic and flirted with the cute bartender. I raise a glass to the man who touched so many hearts and whose smile was equally, if not more, contagious than my own. You will be dearly missed, lover.