Through all this evil and wreckage, he maintained a sense of himself

 

I  found the above photo while going through some things this year - specifically the photo books from when I used to give tattoos.  It's the last known image of a good friend.  After I snapped this he climbed into a car with some friends and I never saw him again.

He wasn't the first person I knew that we lost, and he wasn't the last.
But he was certainly one of the best.  And not just for the way he died - I've tried over the years to not only remember him for that one thing - When I look back at the times we spent together, they were full of moments that define him in my mind and actually help make sense of why he's gone.

I was sitting next to him once when he got up and stepped in front of a gun when everyone else hit the floor.  When other people (me included) yelled for somebody to "do something", he just did it.  He was the person that didn't wait for someone else to save his ass.  That's just who he was.

I wish he wasn't gone.
I miss him all the time.   Especially this time of year.
But I understand why he did what he did - he was just Abe