I Shouldn’t Be Enjoying This

5 Apr

Writing is kind of what I do. I work for the newspaper, for the alumni magazine, and then in my “free time” I keep this blog. I like using words to share things with people.

So, naturally, I like it when people read things I wrote. In the last day or so, I’ve probably gotten more eyes on my writing than ever before. And that’s great. Except the reason people are reading what I have to say is because an 18-year-old kid died.

I’m really proud of the obituary I wrote. It’s one of the pieces I’m most proud of having written, ever. I want people to read it, partially because I’m really proud of it, but mostly because Topher deserves it.

It’s been shared online by people I don’t even know, people who knew Topher from his life before GU.

I know people are sharing it because of what Topher meant to them. But there’s a part of me that’s proud to have people appreciating what I wrote.

I feel terrible for liking the attention. I shouldn’t be appreciating the “likes” and “shares” for my own selfish pride. I shouldn’t be wondering how many page views it’s gotten.

I want this article to be a fitting tribute to a life too short. I want his friends to be able to hear his personality shining through. I want people who never met this dorky, combative, obnoxious, outgoing, fantastic person to feel like they have the slightest understanding of the real boy behind the tragic news story. And I want his parents to see how loved their son was.

But I also want people to think I did a good job writing it. And for that I feel so, so guilty.

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