Chris

Well, I've gathered a lot to blog about in the last fourteen days. I've completed a family vacation, read a book, begun an exploration of the world of punk. A highschool classmate has also died and been buried in this time. So I've had a lot to think about (not that I didn't beforehand).

Chris, my former classmate, was in my homeroom for four years. His locker was right next to mine for four years. We were both on the wrestling team freshman year (in adjacent weight classes). And we were both in the same senior art exhibit this past semester. He was so talented in so many ways. But he was also very quiet. Four years of close proximity, and we barely ever said anything more than "hi" to each other. Everyone liked him. You could say that he was popular, except that he kind of shied away from attention most of the time. He did have his niche, but it wasn't really at school. He was going to be starting at the Art Institute of Chicago this fall. Last sunday, Chris killed himself. There is no specific reason that I'm aware of. Obviously, there was something he was struggling with that he kept to himself. I've never experienced any sort of real depression- only seasonal, so I have trouble understanding or empathizing with the desire to end your life. The very state of being can be such a joyous matter. So I feel sorrow at lost opportunity. I feel like I should have more to say about this, but I don't right now. Chris is the first person my age in my life to have died. I may be in shock or numb. I don't feel that I am, though (but I suppose that's the point of being numb). It's still rather unreal to me. The funeral helped. I think I've accepted that it happened, but I don't know what that means to me. I already had planned on never seeing most of my classmates again upon graduation, except for a class reunion here and there. So I had let go of that group of people already. And that's really all I can say about it right now.


Yeah, I'll talk about everything else later.