here’s a thing, just a thinking
Last year in English, first year at Uni, we had to write a piece about something that changed our life. There were two things that I considered writing about; a death I had to process in high school and an illness in the family. I chose the latter.
At the time I vaguely remember wondering if I could write about the first option and thinking, “I can’t write about that”. It felt so raw. I don’t think it was more transformative than the family illness - that surely changed my life so much more - and I’m so happy with what came out of writing that all out.
But I just saw something that reminded me of Matt. I didn’t really know him all that well and that’s why I feel guilty having such a great grief from his death. But Matt in my quiet, isolated life meant more than I could describe at the time. He sat in front of me in French, beside me in Science, and he was in my math class that semester as well. That was 2 months of seeing him every day for a decent amount of time. He was not only the class clown, but also made me laugh specifically so many times in a day. I looked forward to seeing him day in and day out. He made me feel special. It was the beginning of grade 10, a lovely time for every teenager. I was having a particularly hard time and was just delving into some darker things (sad music, I started exploring different methods of self-harm without using any of them on myself at that point). I was just scratching the surface of a pit I was going to get so far into by the beginning of grade 11. Matt - and I am not romanticizing because I refuse to demote all the emotions you feel at that age, they are fucking real - was a such a light in my life. It was very one sided but that doesn’t really matter.
Matt died by suicide a few weeks into November, a week or so after a good friend of mind moved back to Pakistan.
It’s been 6 years Matt. You had such an impact.
... And I still can’t write about it.
