When I was a kid and still going to church to please my grandfather, our youth group had tons of out-of-church activities to participate in. One of my personal favorites was the day that we took a field trip to a radio station and then to the embalming room of a funeral home.
My second favorite was when we all ended up at the youth pastor’s house for a very unstructured day of fun. I, true to form, spent most of the day inside. I spent a few hours playing around with this very primitive page design program, and when bored of that, ventured out into the living room with the other kids. I have always sought to isolate myself in social situations. I do much better with small groups than large ones.
Upon entering the living room, I saw a boy playing Zelda 2. Since I was 5 years old, I have been obsessed with Zelda. My grandfather and I played the original Zelda together and my grandpa was pretty much my favorite person, so I took an instant shine to this boy. I had never seen Zelda 2 and was unimpressed by the switch in gameplay, but thought that this boy was destined to be my boyfriend based solely on his Zelda prowess.
Then there were screams from outside.
Some kids had been playing frisbee and one of them ran face first into a tree, busting his lip open. Everyone ran outside to patch the kid up, disrupting Zelda time and annoying me. When everyone came back, we played a game to determine how we’d eat dinner.
We were split up into teams and given a dinner course. Then we were asked trivia questions, and the winners picked the names of restaurants out of a hat for our particular course. The frisbee kid was on the team that had dessert. They became heroes when they picked Dairy Queen out of a hat.
Fast forward almost 10 years.
I walk into an art class full of highschool seniors looking to get an easy A. I end up sitting by myself behind this table of people i would never, ever talk to. My hair was dark purpley red. A guy at the table turned around and cracked a joke about how my hair was our school’s color (our colors were maroon and white). I punched him.
The next day he sat at my table and we chatted forever. It rapidly turned into him picking on me, and me retaliating with paint and/or hitting. He asked me to prom. When he picked me up, I made fun of his car for having a shit brown interior.
We quickly became inseparable. He was my absolute best friend. Every time we got together, some strange debauchery would be afoot. I loved him and he loved me. It was something that we both really needed, we were really good for each other.
One of my favorite stories is when we were going to homecoming my senior year. He was driving like an idiot on wet roads. He hydroplaned around a corner and fish-tailed, flying off an embankment. We landed upside down in his Jeep Cherokee, suspended by our seatbelts. I distinctly remember looking over at him and laughing when he asked if i was alright. It was such a ridiculous situation. We still went to homecoming and got our picture taken. With our hair and clothes messed up and my flowers all broken. He crawled back into the jeep to get my flowers after the wreck because I had forgotten them.
But I was stupid because I was in highschool, and I broke his heart. He was going to propose to me, which I thought was weird because we were never really dating, but I had begun dating someone else. We fell out of touch for a few years.
Eventually our paths crossed again and it was like no time had passed. It was amazing to have my best friend back. The last time I saw him, we spent the night drinking and laying on top of uninstalled drainage pipes in a playground, looking at the stars.
When Tim proposed to me, he was the first person I called. I wanted him to be in my wedding party because he had been such a big part of my life. He was excited and immediately agreed.
Then months went by and I couldn’t get in touch with him.
The first day of our honeymoon Disneyland caught on fire as soon as we sat down for lunch. We were all evacuated into the open areas of the park while it was sorted out. While we were standing around, I got a call from an old highschool friend.
My best friend had died.
The day after my wedding, of a heart attack.
He wasn’t even 30.
RIP Cabbott Beasley. You were a light in my life when I really needed one. Whenever I hear 40oz to Freedom or Santeria I will always think of you <3crossposted from fuzzdecay.com.