My friend died today.
He was kind. He was generous. He was funny. He traveled around the world, collecting friends and experiences. He loved sharing stories of motorcycling across North America, taking his mother to Africa, heliskiing in Whistler, scuba diving in Australia, and the modest house he was building himself on a piece of land outside the city.
He had energy. He had charisma. He exemplified that you only get one life, so live it fully and enjoy it.
I tried to be more like him.
We met less than a year ago and quickly became good friends. I met his friends, who became my friends. He met my friends, who became his friends. One evening, after a couple drinks, he confessed he wanted something more. When I explained that I didn't return his feelings, he took it with grace, and it didn't impact our friendship.
He got a tickle in his throat that wouldn't go away. Miraculously, he saw a specialist within weeks, when it normally takes months.
It was cancer. The bad kind. The worst kind. The kind that if he were 5 years older, he would be sent to palliative care.
He was a fighter, and he was going to fight it. Our city wasn't equipped to handle his case, so he contacted specialists around the world. The world expert in his type of cancer agreed to personally oversee his treatment.
Fight it he did. Surrounded by his friends and family, he fought so hard. His rock was his (ex) girlfriend, the love of his life, who dropped everything to move here to take care of him. She is lovely beyond words, and just as amazing as he is. I would be so lucky if I could find someone who loved me 1/10th of the love they showed each other. It's rare to see true love like that in person.
He was so hopeful he would beat this. He told us all the things he would do "when he got better". He wasn't done living yet.
He lost his fight today. Peacefully and surrounded by his loved ones.
The world lost someone very, very special.
May his memory be a blessing.
he said he'll surprise me with a new one when I'm not suspecting it
