![]() One afternoon, Ryan will leave his CD binder at my house. I never had any friends later on like the ones I had during those days. Our pubescent faces stuffed with everything my teenage metabolism would race to process. Most days after school, we are in the park trading insults and arguing over pop culture, or downstairs, alternating between shooting pool and fighting over the video game controllers. We become fast friends while our neighborhood group reconnects. Our personalities play off each other well. He has an effortless cool that I admire and a confidence I try to fake. ![]() Over the next few months, Ryan and I will bond over girls, late-night phone calls, and navigating this torturous linoleum hell. A nostalgic breeze where youth was the possibility of forever that’s why we chase its intoxicating scent. Reminiscing on them is like the smell of pencil shavings, graphite and wood clipping the air, pulling us back to a simpler time. A hook searching for bait in a world rapidly changing before my childhood eyes.įriendships formed through the collective trauma that is high school tend to have a weightier feel as we get older. But I was a passive passenger to the sounds that washed over me. My parents played music in the background, friends showed me some grunge and metal records I heard pop music on the radio. Up to this point in my life, music has been something that happened around me. Who am I? Who the ever-living-fuck am I? I walk to the bus stop. And standing there alone in my parent’s basement has my skin feeling like a hand-me-down Halloween costume. I’m about to start my first year of high school, and I am fucking terrified. The silence between us is not due to any real falling out but a byproduct of the stretching of time that turns brothers into strangers. None of whom I’ve spoken to in over a decade. Most of them were from my childhood neighborhood. A small circle of people in my life have ever called me Tate. But there’s something in the familiarity of the phrasing that picks at a scab in my brain. I’m thinking, “I can ignore this, right?” I almost always ignore these.
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