Some of you might know him as chrisalmon from gendereurope, or christ-salmon from the gangder Skype group, his Tumblr URL (if he had one, I will have to ask Roy) was probably another fish-related joke. Some of you might not know him at all.

I have never been good at dealing with loss, especially not such grave one, but being a story writer is good for one thing: I know words.
 

 

Its January the 25th, 2016, just passed three in the morning when I received the message. It was send by Roy, one of the few people of Gendereurope that still contacts me regularly. He told me he found the online condolences of one ’***** Almon’, followed by the link.

I didn’t really understand why he send me that, though the last name should have tipped me off. I guess I just didn’t want to know. Then I saw the photo of *****, all prim and proper. A young girl with piggy tails and a dress. Only it wasn’t really a girl.

“I’m pretty sure it’s Chris.” Roy had continued, I don’t think I will ever forget those words. “I’m sorry.”

My hands were shaking and I felt tears brimming at my eyes, threatening to fall “Me too.” I replied, and that were all the words I could find. I was sorry too.

I didn’t sleep the rest of the night, I just cried.

The next morning I decide to act like nothing had happened, grandma was sick and my family had enough to worry about.

I went on with my day, sometimes hiding away in the toilets when things became too much. Eventually I broke and messaged my mom, she already knew about my friend Chris, so I guessed she deserved to know.

[12:36 25-01-2016] Emile: Ik durfde het niet in het echt te zeggen, omdat ik dingen niet te zwaar wil maken, maar ik vind toch dat je het moet weten.
[12:36 25-01-2016] Emile: Chris is dood.

A simple translation would be “I didn’t want to bother you, but I think you should know. Chris died.” I couldn’t cry, because I was in the middle of a photography course.

Life is unfair. I know people say that a lot, so do I, but never felt it as strongly as that day. When we were both still alive, Chris and I would share all our secrets, fears and hopes for the future. Now the future he hopes for was gone and my future would be completely different. A future without Chris.

On a particular bad day, a few months prior, Chris told me that his biggest fear was to be buried under a false name, one that wasn’t truly his. I used to share that fear with him. For him, that fear has now come true, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Roy and I decide to set up our own condolence register online, with Chris’ preferred name, his real name. Somewhere we could remember him like he was and not like his parents wanted him to be.

I am more motivated than ever to tell people my story, but also Chris’ and those of all struggling people out there. Stories cloaked by fantasy, where our demons are the dragons we need to face and our transition the beautiful change that happens along the way.

I wonder what Chris would think and how much of what he told me in all the years we chat was true. It doesn’t matter. He is gone.

Last morning (the 26th) I send Roy a message about www.forevermissed.com and how perfect it would be for Chris and he went to it as soon as he woke. Once everything was done, he let me mess with the layout. In retrospect, I am pretty sure it wasn’t needed, but Roy knew how important it was to me to be a part of this.

I made a song list to add in his tribute, filled with soothing songs that Chris would have loved. I’ve been listening to it on repeat myself. I am feeling numb, unable to deal with loss unless it’s with productivity. I think I got that from my mom.

We are not legally allowed to post photos of the deceased, that word still makes me shudder, online unless you got permission of the legal guardians. At least that’s what Roy read in the regulations. It doesn’t make much sense to me, but rules are rules. Right now we are trying to figure out how to still make it look like a professional condolence, but it’s harder than it looks. We stuck with the idea of gathering artwork made for him and would appreciate help.

Roy and I have been shouldering the heavy burden of telling all the other friends Chris has made online about his passing. Roy said I didn’t have to do it, but I won’t let him carry this on his own. We both never realised how many lives he had touched until now. How many people will be missing him. It hurts and seems to make the loss bigger.

If I would have done more, if we would have done more, would he still be alive? To keep ourselves distracted from that question, we simply keep spreading the word in hopes it will reach the parents of other transgendered children. Don’t abandon your child. You might lose your ‘little girl’, but at least you would still have a son. Or the other way around.