Tristan was problematic to our group from the very beginning. He was the rich kid with the newest iPod, always had the cool ‘zippo’ binders you could draw on, the huge mansion, all the perks in life that Jace and I could only dream of. But we were young kids when we met, you know, when money doesn’t really matter much.

Fuck, I don’t know if you remember this but I hope you do.

It was Jace’s 9th birthday party. We all went to his dad’s house and hung out in the basement all day while his dad told us crazy rock star stories from his old band days. I’m pretty sure Jace’s dad even showed us his belly button piercing that day, we were not impressed.  We ate a huge guitar cake that Jace’s mom had spent the day making. Anyways, I don’t remember at all what I bought Jace for his birthday, but I remember what you got him.

The Game of Life: Toy Story Edition.

I made that it’s own paragraph to let you all know the importance of this board game in our lives. We played that board game non-stop for a year and a lot happened that year. That board game got us through my first year at the Christian school, away from them and my other friends. That game got Jace through his parent’s divorce, which we all knew would not end well. And Tristan? That’s the thing about him; I don’t remember Tristan’s hurdles as a young kid like us. It was when we got older that his demons came to play.

So I hope you know that when I think of you I don’t think of you as the guy who hasn’t slept in weeks, smoking his 30th cigarette on my balcony, telling me he needs time on his own to think. I think of you as the guy who always helped everyone with their hurdles. Whether it was playing a stupid board game for the 50th time, or helping me with math homework that would give me panic attacks, or making Jace get on stage to perform for the first time ever at our elementary talent show, you were always there.

And I guess I just wish I were there for you the way you were for us.