All day today, I've been reminded by my calendar,  by Facebook, by Skype that it's my friend, JT's, birthday. The thing is, JT committed suicide just over a year ago. He was brilliant and talented and had many friends. I was lucky enough to be one of them.

I always laughed at the way we became acquainted (he bought my house in Campbell, CA) and I will always be grateful that I met him.

In a round-about way, he helped me land the job I have now.

He made cheesecake for me when I was sad or lost.

He always knew when to text a hug. 

He loved his kids. He held his friends when they were sad. He always seemed to know when someone needed help, but didn't really mention it when he did. Maybe because so many counted on him.

He was a pretty exemplary human. I wish I'd been a better friend.

I miss the JT I knew.  I miss the JT I can never know. I wish I could hug him or make a (vastly inferior) cheesecake.

Dammit.