Think… passionate–a little on the easily committing side of passionate. Like the type of passionate that gives a damn no matter how unimportant the thing seems? That’s Chris. And usually, he does good at what he’s invested in, believe it or not (and it gets to his head too). And that’s both a good thing and a bad thing. Take writing for instance. Just let him read a couple of essays and write a few more and not long after, he’ll think he’s a natural! And maybe sometimes, you admit he knows what he’s doing. Sketching? Just give him a few weeks of doodling and he’ll think he’s better than (most of) his friends. To know him is to wonder how someone can run on just confidence. But that’s far from true…
Because to know Chris is to know how he can want. And sometimes it’s confusing–confusing because the surface conceals the undercurrent. It’s to know what it’s like to casually play off criticisms on something he’s invested in but be the first one to work on improving himself the moment nobody sees. To be Chris is to constantly welcome change because he sees that there’s room for it. And to know that there always will be.
To know Chris is to know how someone can defy classification. At first the conversationalist and then suddenly, the brooding lone wolf, and always the odd one (in). You start to question Myers-Briggs. Not all the time you see someone who appreciates long walks alone to wander or to think, and all the same would enjoy the company of friends or strangers and long winded conversations about music, movies, or people, or life and whatever comes after that.
But you know no matter how much he changes, it’s still the same guy, always trying to be better. He’ll be the first to tell you it’s not being obsessed, it’s being passionate.