stuckbetweenStations.

A memory:

Years ago, when Uncle Doctors was the place to be and we all only wore variations of band t-shirts & hoodies, I got to know my cousin, Chris, over a conversation about Shai Hulud & their recent set we’d both had the pleasure of seeing kill in a myriad of ways in Columbia just weeks before. 

Those family gatherings with that side were always awkward. Usually, we’d have driven from whatever southern city my father had been stationed in for the last year and sat in that tiny living room with too much food in our bellies and not a single reliable talking topic on our minds. 

I remember when we were leaving, my dad was so encouraged by the connection I’d made with Chris-relieved might be a better word. The kid had darkness, he said. He struggled. I thought nothing of it. Continued to see him at shows, talked with him on Myspace, and had a newfound love for the holiday visits now that I had someone to talk breakdowns with. 

He stopped coming to those gatherings eventually, and that house was sold just after my Paw Paw passed away. Now that my father’s gone, we don’t see his family often. 

Chris was found dead yesterday. The darkness won. He was 30 years old. Sick. And very, very tired. 

I wish I had kept the connection.