You left over 4 years ago and all it takes is "Wicked Game" or "Pitselah" or "Color Blind" to bring back the rush of our colleges memories all crammed together and overwhelming me with love. Wasn't it by total mistake that we became friends? When the other two joined forces against me that I found solace in your friendship? A sweet boy from Washington with your self-coined "bedroom-eyes", you made yourself at home in my turmoil. Things could have been different between us, but we both knew that our one and only kiss revealed a fate of friendship and not romance. Before they cut away all the weeping branches, we would hide together in the swing above Sigma Chi, listening to Radiohead and Elliot Smith. You drank close to a pot of coffee a day and in turn, taught me to take my coffee black while we spent late study nights in some greasy dinner almost waiting for the sun. We'd find ourselves mentally engulfed in some debate over Platonic forms or theology and far be it from me to say you ever had it wrong. I think it was because of your constant connection to Napster-filling three hard drives with music- that caused Biola to burn through its ethernet allowance. How did you find me...when I was running beyond midnight at the track- I was trying to sprint the hurt out of my soul- and you were there, to hold an exhausted girl who was tired of trying. Easy laugh, carefree ways, enormous truck and a passion for all things controversial...When I saw you lying in silver, it wasn't true. How could I measure your life, if not by your latest passion? Skiing, your Harley, art, business, outdoor adventure. How could you stop living? My friend who wrote to me about the life the Washington woods breathed into him; about being wet and freezing in the streams, feeling the fall leaves swirl around you, being pricked with flaking snow- taking it all in realize you were ALIVE. My friend who called me every week after the divorce, just to make sure I was still waking up and faking it. Wasn't it just such a call, only hours before He took you? He wanted all that passion, I suppose. The Sovereign One found it His pleasure to hone your enthusiasm to the single flame of loving and worshipping Him. You were a true, and good friend. I miss you, and I look forward to seeing you again my sweet Little Prince.