When I was in 8th grade, I ended up separated from most of my elementary friends. I had one friend that I knew, and she had the same problem the previous year, and introduced me to some of her new friends. One was this boy who had a deformed arm. He opened my eyes to a whole new world of interests, musical tastes, style, anime, books (including one of my favorite authors to this day), and just generally made me look at life differently. We talked on the phone every night, to the point where my parents got me a second phone line because I was on the phone so much. He introduced me to his friends, one of which became my first boyfriend. And he was one of the first people I’d met that was as smart as me and I could have real conversations about the world with. He pretty much changed my outlook on life, and I would say the trajectory too. And he was my best friend.

The next part gets sad, though. I met him the first day of 8th grade. Summer break, about to go into high school. I went on a vacation with my family. My mom gets a call a day before we go back, she is visibly distressed but says it’s nothing. When I get home, three of my friends and my grandma are waiting for us. My grandma breaks the news, my best friend died. He had a heart defect, his heart gave out. I knew him for a year, and I still think about him all the time. It’s surreal sometimes. I have like two photos of him. I don’t talk to anyone who knew him anymore. It was so long ago and I know I’ve forgotten so much about him, it’s hard to think about sometimes, but none of that takes away the changes he made in my life. Also, he brought me to Christianity, but I could never forgive god for taking him away.