On September 11, 2004 I met Matt. Squeaky. My new friend I was getting to know, Karin, had just gotten her new Grand Frigate in the game and was showing it off. I never pass up the chance to look at the bigger ships in game, so I was so there. Somehow I ended up making some offhand comment about coffee and Matt asked if I'd share. I replied that you must always share fresh coffee, and he sent me a hearty invitation in response. I'm not one to turn down potential friends, so I of course accepted.

We ended up standing there talking to each other about random stuff for an hour, as everyone else gradually left the ship and went off to their other things. I learned how tall he was because of a silly offhand comment about how he was big all over, completely unintentional. Which me being the brat I am I teased him about. Something about "dude, we just met!" 6'8". So tall. I can't even comprehend how tall that is in a human being.

I took off to do chores for a couple hours, and when I came back he was there with more talk. I was so worried, he was so charming and so into me, and I was engaged. He had also broken up with his GF, Amy a month before. I didn't want to be his rebound crush, and I really liked him so I was trying to figure out a way to say that without hurting him. I dropped a couple hints and he got them. So smart. We kept talking in game and then moved to IM.

We clicked so fast. There was nothing we didn't talk about. If it came up, we'd talk about it and explore it and see why it was so interesting. He had this incredibly bad habit of editing what he would write to me in IM, I could tell because I have a "user is typing" indicator. So we made a deal, that we wouldn't delete. That we'd just type what we thought and hit send -- straight, brutal, honesty. We played the question game that I've been playing with people since I was 15. He drove me so nuts because he'd never have any questions for me.

By the 3rd night of us talking to each other every moment we could, I knew he was someone really precious to me and that he felt the same way. He gave me a bouquet of flowers in KoL, just because and that got to me, so very much. Stupid black and white line drawing graphic of a bouquet of flowers.

One of the things we talked about was being life bruised. He had been in an accident 2 years ago that killed a friend and should've killed him. He had found out 7 months ago that he was going deaf because of it. He was scared, so very scared to do anything about the deafness, to go for the surgery that might save it. I told him how scared I am everyday. I told him my story. We just understood, deep understood what that does to people and what it did to each other.

One of the best moments for me was when he said he was going for the surgery. He just tossed it into the middle of our little banter chats. We just knew when to make a big deal out of something and when to simply say "That's cool." And keep going. He would ask me these amazing questions, just perfectly set to make me think about myself. I did the same, he'd tell me. It's how he said he loved me; just out of nowhere he said that every time I made him stop and think he just wanted to tell me he loved me.

He loved me an awful lot. He would have taken all of me, if I had been free. But I'm not, and he just understood and accepted it and was so incredibly happy with what we did have. I cannot describe what that simple acceptance of my limitations and me feels like. I hated it too because I love him an awful lot myself and nobody should ever accept leftovers from the person they love.

We spent so much time talking to each other, every day. Sometimes it would be intense and thought provoking, sometimes so unbelievably stupid. He talked about his friends and how he was never lonely because of how much they loved him. He never had even the slightest doubt of the love his friends had for him. I admired that so much. I admired how he just lived. He loved so much and so many things and he'd do them. Life was this gift to him and he was so excited by it.

He made me remember what it was like to love something with a passion. I told him about the dreams I had to be able to fly and to be able to run on the water. I never told him that because of him I decided I'd finally learn how to sail. He went one night to the Duck Dodge and came home and described it to me and it was something I wanted to see and be a part of somehow. His life and his passion for it made me want the same thing in my own life.

I called him my Tree because his nickname, Squeaky was so silly and he wouldn't let me call him pip. He called me silly girl.

I once asked why this friendship of ours was there. What it had for us. Was it there for him, for me, for both of us? I figured out my part pretty quickly, I adored him, I loved him and he was perfect to me especially his bruises and where he was broken. I made him happy. His gift to me has been my life back, a remembrance of what it was like to be excited about life. That I could be scared, so very scared and still live a full life.

The last time I talked to him he was going out on a motorcycle ride because it was a beautiful sunny day out. I teased him about being safe, and that I wished he'd stay. But he loved the beautiful days so much, and being an adrenaline junky, he said. So I said I loved him and that he should shoo. He called me his silly girl, told me he loved me and shooed.

Matt died on Sunday, October 3, 2004 when a truck sideswiped his motorcycle and he went off the road into a guardrail. He died instantly. He died the way he wanted, fast, doing something he loved and happy. I am going to miss him so very much.

I'm going to run on the water, Matt. I promise.