Superman's Dead, Our Lady Peace, 1997
My Chris T is gone. I'll never be the same. She's the rock that made me who I am.
I keep thinking about our origin story. I don't remember much from the past but I remember the day you sauntered into my life. It was most likely 1993 because I was in my early 20s and I swear you were still a teenager.
Even back then, you were effortless and uninhibited. You were so unassuming and yet somehow exuded the radiant beauty of an ethereal mega-goddess. You were always undeniably youthful but possessed the sage wisdom of an elder. You were profoundly serious but were also a ridiculously hilarious goober. You were the least judgemental person I've ever known and yet you demanded accountability. You were so genuinely and indiscriminately compassionate but didn't put up with shit.
For me, we were instantly kindred and it was absolutely love at first sight. After three decades of memories and being hopelessly in your thrall, I'm sickened by how I took you for granted.
Why the fuck had I not seen you recently?
You are so very everything.
You are forever, Christie McKinnon.
Love em. Hug em. Hold em tight. Your people are all that really matter in this world.
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