CAPTAIN'S BLOG
When I was very young, I had a best friend.
Wow I'm already crying. His name was - is - Matt. He lived one street over from mine. He was my best friend. I guess I don't recall that much about our time together - other than I enjoyed it. We laughed and talked and played board games - I remember Life, but mostly I remember the mouse trap game. And Connect 4. I used to play music on my boombox - MC Hammer and Devo and Talking Heads - loud enough for him to hear, and he'd come over. One day we started elementary school together - or maybe it was Kindergarten. We were in separate classes. That was fine - we could see each other between classes. And no big deal. They'll always be there for me at the end of the day, right? One day soon I'm at school and Matt is not there. I ask around, but I don't really know anyone else - I just see blurs and shapes. My teacher asks me what's wrong. I ask her where Matt is. She points to him talking to another boy. He's laughing. He basically never talks to me again. Like 5 years later, I live in Florida and we are visiting Vancouver. We go see our old house. And Matt's house. He still lives there with his Mum. We have a quiet chat. He bites his toenails. I leave wondering what happened to him, to us. Of course I'm just an early teen so, whatever. But I can still picture that camera angle from my childhood. Looking slightly up at his short brown hair, I watch the two of them go into the classroom together. I don't remember anything else about my childhood until I am in Florida, arguing with my 3rd grade teacher about whether or not I have to do work in class.
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AuthorChristina Hitchens is a trans female writer living in BC, Canada. She loves computers, animals, and a good argument. Archives
March 2022
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