3 Stories: A love letter to friendship
I have been plagued with the inability to write speeches since I was a very young boy. Back in boarding school, when I applied to run for the SRC Organizing Secretary, I couldn’t come up with enough words to write a speech but I somehow convinced enough people to get the position. My ability lies more in conversation and less in writing a structured speech. I know that about myself. The only other person I have met with this ability was my late friend, Michelle. Michelle, as some of you know, if you read my last post, passed away in Paris, France 5 days ago (I am writing this on Monday, February 3rd). I have been wondering how I could write about her and have attempted multiple times. I have failed over 6 times on 6 different untitled google docs. I don’t know what to say to truly encapsulate the beautiful woman I knew. But then, yesterday, after spending some time at Onyx Gallery (an amazing gallery) in Pacific Place, I went to Regal Cinemas to see Nickel Boys, alone (I love going to movies alone, ‘low it). What a beautiful film! The acting, the directing the fucking cinematography…holy shit! After the film ended I was left with a lot of thoughts about friendships and the value of them in our lives. The friendship between Turner and Elwood is one to write home about, truly. I left the theater and then took the train home. On the train, I started to think about the film We Grown Now by Minhal Baig, a film about two young Black boys and their friendship in a crime ridden neighborhood in Chicago in the early 90s. That added a few more ideas as to how I could write about Michelle without it being a sad and heartbreaking thing, and since I am a storyteller with all my art practices, I will talk about Michelle with 3 different stories.
I first met Michelle 3 months after I turned 21. I met her through a cousin of mine. It was a cold November night in Brooklyn, I had just come up to the city to see friends and family. I walked into this dingy bar with bad lighting and my cousin waved at a table of 4. We walked over and he introduced everyone to me. He said “this is Mark, who you’ve met, Jon, Jamie and Michelle”. I went on to dap all of them up one by one and Michelle opted for an additional hug. As the night went on, I learned how they had all met. Jamie used to date my cousin’s ex, Michelle, Jon and J (my cousin) were all at Columbia together and Mark used to sell them all drugs. They spent the night sharing stories and refusing to let me pay for drinks. I thought to myself “if this is what 25 looks like with friends, I want this forever”. Just a few months prior, I had met Pache, Obi, Anya, Terrence, Maggie, Jamal, amongst others who I thought I could also fill the corner booth with. Towards the end of the night, I stood up and went to the bar to ask for a cup of water and Michelle followed. As we stood at the bar waiting for the bartender to turn his attention to us, Michelle said “so how are you doing? How’s school?” I replied “eh. America is still kinda weird to me, even this many years in”. She laughed and tapped my shoulder. She then proceeded to tell me about what it was like to grow up in Queens and have a Chinese home but an American world. I related to that. My parents were very adamant about my siblings and I growing up in a world where we never lost our sense of identity and especially culture. After further conversation, I checked my watch and it was 1am. Michelle said “we should go to my mom’s, she can make us some steamed buns”, I looked at my cousin and he just celebrated. This was a common thing I learned. Every Saturday night, she would drag the gang all the way to Queens for steamed buns. Everyone would end up staying up too late and have to spend the night there. Anyway, we made it to Queens, ate some buns and was introduced to Ms. Y. She was about 5’ tall and feisty. She served soup as well and demanded we finish our plates. After dinner or I guess breakfast?, my cousin decided to leave, he had a bartender to see. Jon and Mark left as well and Michelle and I had to clean up the kitchen. After cleaning up the kitchen, we stayed up all night chatting about music and films, a continuation of a conversation Mark had started earlier at the bar. We both loved Ed Sheeran but she had MET Ed. She showed me pictures and I just stared in awe. Ms. Y stopped in to say good night and Michelle and I just chatted. This was the start of a lifelong friendship, “she’s cool as fuck”, I thought to myself. She brought out some blankets and then left for bed. The next morning she drove me back to Manhattan to meet up with J. This is who Michelle was, an empathetic person who always took care of the new kid she didn’t particularly know. There are many stories of her doing similar things over the 10 years of our friendship.
The 2nd story I want to tell you about is my wretched why-I-do-not-go-to-Miami-anymore story. Actually fuck that. I’m not telling that story. I am gonna tell the story of Michelle telling me I was going to be a godfather. If you know anything about me, you know I love the Godfather films, yes the 3rd one is shit but the first 2 are absolutely perfect. Michelle had moved to Switzerland in 2021. The pandemic was raging, Jamie had passed away from COVID and we were all terrified and heartbroken. I had moved back to Morgantown, WV from Tampa, FL, taking a pay cut for a job at WVU Medicine so I could be closer to my family, especially with my mother being at high risk. Michelle called me on the phone 3 weeks after she moved and said “you’re my last call. After this I am turning my phone off and throwing it away. You’ll have to reach out to me through email.” I was confused, Michelle worked in music, all she does is get phone calls. I replied “okay?” and then she says “glad we are on the same page. Also, did you get the package?” I said no and she asked me to check. I had received a postcard with me photoshopped as Michael Corleone being greeted as Godfather at the end of Godfather I. I lost it and started laughing uncontrollably. She then just hung up. I was perplexed. I didn’t even get to accept the offer. I tried calling her and the phone was off which led me to send the email below.
She didn’t email me back for 3 full days. I just sat with the fact that I got told I am going to be godfather for 3 days. I didn’t know how far along she was or anything, and she found all of this hilarious because why not? When she called she said “how you feeling, godfather?”, I just had to hold back cussing her out because that was the greatest honor I had been bestowed by anyone. Years later, I am godfather to 5 children but still, that one stands out. But that was Michelle, she made sure you knew how much she valued your friendship even if she showed it in disturbing ways.
The 3rd and final story I will tell about Michelle is the last time I saw her. We had lunch at a restaurant near the Tate. This was my 2nd time seeing her in a week. She was leaving for Paris that night. We were talking about Mark, who passed away towards the end of last year. We shared stories about him and Jamie, talked about the summer of 2016 and then discussed the future. I expressed to her how my depression seems to have lifted and I am overwhelmed with everything I didn’t really process during the depression and she held my hand and said to me “Nate, life itself is overwhelming but that’s why we have people. You are never gonna be alone. You will always have me and your friend Mike. We are with you through this all. And I will fly to Seattle to spend some time with you. I will see you in NYC for the show as well and meet you in NC for Dreamville.” I smiled and said thank you. Then she went on to make an inappropriate joke I can’t repeat. I tell this story to show how much she cared about her friends. She never wavered in that. She was blatant about love and unapologetic about it. Anyway after lunch, I asked to photograph her for a long term project I am working on. She refused but promised she would let me in North Carolina. I was excited by the prospect, also I would be able to introduce her to all my college friends. And that was it, she hopped in an uber and that is the last image of her I have. Luckily I got to hear her voice again when she got to Paris but that image of her getting in the uber is seared into my brain like the last image of Moses I have.
I told these stories to try and process how I am feeling right now and connect them to Nickel Boys and We Grown Now. Both films are about the depth friendships can have and how they can ultimately put a bow on this thing we call life. We are never alone, we have people and I hope we all tend to remember that…I have a hard time remembering that.
I really miss my friend, I would be shit talking on the phone at least twice a week if she was alive but that isn’t life’s plan for me and I am/should be okay with that.
If you made it this far, please do me a big favor, call your friends and say “what’s up, waguan, what you saying? what’s going on?” Any of those. Friendships need cultivating and it’s important to check in. I love you and thank you for reading this unusual piece!
