Patrick sent me a video from December 1st, 2017. I was at behind the counter at Hi-Tech Gametraders giving my classic shitty justification for stealing video games. The camera whips towards me and zooms in on my face. There’s a slight smile on my face like I know what I’m saying is stupid, because it was. I’m wearing a red beanie that can barely contain the mass of hair that was on my head, and my black peacoat. I always wore it during the winter because Hi-Tech was constantly freezing. 

December of 2017 was a time that I remember fondly that I never would have suspected to remember highly at all. My justification for stealing games wasn’t nearly as silly as some of the other things I would end up doing and saying over the holidays, and sometimes I feel as if things would be better served if I would scrub those things from my mind. It was a long December, and I remember feeling like every day was like navigating a new minefield. Of course I was being incredibly melodramatic. The stakes were at their lowest point, and the only outcome of that December was a membership in the broken hearts club. It was all just a silly game. 

When I was in the 5th grade, as many of our grade that we could fit across the top of the biggest hill in the school-ground would line up on our magic carpets and all ride down at the same time in what was dubbed “The Destruction Derby”. No rules. Make it to the bottom. Those of us who fell early on had just as much fun as the ones who stood in victory at the bottom of the hill.