Mr. Christopher Mattison was a very dear friend and lover of mine. Up until the last days of his life, we talked every day, whether it was during school or on the phone. He always smiled and he always made me smile. I have had so many wonderful memories with him, some sad, some funny, but all wonderful. My favorite is the tale of when we first met, for I think it describes him best.
It was the first day of freshman year, and I was as nervous as ever. My hands were slick with perspiration and my feet dragged heavily everywhere they took me. I remember my heart pumping as I climbed the steps up to Gladdon High and relaxing the minute I glanced at him.
Him! Him with his brown, bouncing hair, his light brown-colored skin, his firm and thick brows, his kind eyes that made you feel as though he understood every feeling you'd ever had, his gentle cupid's bow and muted lips, his strong, yet small, nose; the list went on. He instantly made me swoon.
I imagined our whole life together. He would ask me out, we would date for 4-6 years, I would propose (he would say yes), we would have children that we adopted, we would watch them grow, we would become empty-nesters, we would play bingo on Wednesdays, and we would grow old together. It was so beautiful that I could feel tears stinging my eyes.
However, that "life" flashed before me as I saw many other girls making faces at him and giggling while they each took a turn stealing glances at my future husband. I knew I had to act fast if we were ever going to be together.
I remember thinking of every excuse in the book to go up and talk to this stranger whose beauty had put an intensely warm feeling in my stomach. I finally gave up and told myself, "Improv! This is just like every acting class you've taken!"
It was not.
I casually walked over to him and asked,
"Excuse me, but do you have the time?"
His eyes fluttered around the room looking for a clock and finally landed on something below my line of vision: my watch. Ah, yes, the beautiful sterling silver watch my grandmother had given me as a present for "graduating" junior high school. He chuckled and gingerly took my hand.
"It appears to be... 7:30," he said, giggling. I started laughing a bit too, though I was completely mortified.
"I'm Christopher, by the way. Christopher Mattison," he said when he let go of my hand.
"I'm Emily, Emily Farrington," I responded, trying to keep the sorrow that Christopher - such a lovely name! - Christopher's hand was no longer in mine out of my voice.
"Nice to meet you, Emily Farrington," Christopher had chimed, "My home room is English 08."
"So is mine!" I exclaimed.
"Mind if we walk together?" he inquired.
"Not a bit," I remarked.
So, that is the simple story of how we met, which i feel tells a lot about the person that Christopher was: kind, humorous, pleasant, joyful, and always the perfect guy to awkwardly break the ice with. I will miss him, but his spirit will forever live on in my heart, and he has affected me permanently.
Thank you.
