For the second time in 18 months, I’ve lost a friend to depression—a unique, young talent with their greatest years ahead of them.
Chloe Weil tasted words. She was vulnerable to rich emotional experiences in the summertime. She hated her birthday, and she hated surprises. She had a cat named FACE that was famous on Reddit for a day. She helped us listen to songs traveling across the stars.
She was, in short, a badass.
Chloe was a person who made things. She made things with code, with fabric, with yarn, with charcoal, with sugar.
She poked fun at her depression, even as she was fighting it.
Chloe, I wish I’d told you in life how much I admire you, how incredibly talented I think you are. You continually made things, and like your synesthesia, they revealed someone who experiences the world unlike anyone else I know.
I wish I’d been able to say these words to you in person, instead of writing them to you in death, so that you could have tasted every one.