19yrs of getting crazier
Known to the tumblr world as moshy, known to my friends as Mackenzie. Mostly post sketches of my own up here, and reblog nonesense.
Background Illustrations provided by: http://edison.rutgers.edu/

There are people in your story. You’re personal story that maybe are there for years. And then one day, they vanish. And it’s small and insignificant maybe, but a small part of you knows that their story is still going on in another book. 

Then suddenly, in a flash. They’re back in your story. And maybe not directly. Maybe you hear about them on social media, or through another friend. Only this time, they’re only back in your story because somebody is telling you that their story ended.

I don’t really know what I’m feeling right now. 

All I DO know, is that a kid I used to go to high school with has died. And maybe I wasn’t particularly close to him in our last few years of school together. But I have great memories of him. I remember meeting him for the first time in 2nd grade. And I remember him and I being a part of a trio of REALLY good friends in 3rd grade. We’d toss snacks at each other during snack-time, trying to catch them in our mouths. And played stupid games during recess. He really liked sharks then, and I would draw shark pictures for him. And when my baby tooth wouldn’t come out, and my adult one in front started growing behind it, he thought it was the coolest thing because I had a row of teeth like a shark. 

I remember being in science class together in 7th grade. That was the first time I dissected a frog for a class. We couldn’t figure out how to get all the way through its skin and our science teacher came over and just ripped the frog open with her bare hands. It was gross, but we talked about that day for weeks after. 

I remember when he broke his arm playing football in middle school…. and then when he broke it again in wrestling. 

And so, I say goodbye to this kid I haven’t talked to in a couple years in a kind of a haze. Because even though we’re just one small part of eachother’s stories. Those child-hood memories are still worth something. 

My heart goes out to Craig’s family.