I Miss You Bro


If you know me personally, you’ve gotten a ‘good shit™’ from me via text or whatever medium we communicate through. That comes from Adam A and our time spent together at the DAF Luxury Spa & Resort.

I picked up 6 months last night and he died. No way to soften that blow, it’s a Houdini gut punch, completely not ready to hear that news when I woke up. It doesn’t seem real. That the next time I see him it will be…

Fuck. This is life in addiction and recovery. It’s life and death. We just talked a few days ago.


That’s Adam, giving me advice over a relationship, even while I knew he was struggling. I told him drugs aren’t even a thought for me anymore, that gift was God given. My favorite word, neutrality.

Adam was an incredible writer. I can’t believe I’m using the past tense. He may have been more sarcastic than me even. The kid could do anything, tons of musical ability, from drums, guitar down to the jazz flute. He just had this way about him. He became my best friend in one conversation.

People have whispered behind my back, he’s so talented, such a waste. I doubt anyone said that about Adam. They say some of us carry a tragic flaw that makes some artists great. Pain births beauty. I get that, but this attitude that we have to end up dead- it’s a fraud. They don’t know shit.


I’m writing this numb, I don’t know what the message is, the sick and suffering are in my prayers all the time, Adam most definitely. Some get it, some never will. Everytime in the past I would wonder why this person or that would die, while God gave me a legion of guardian angels.

I don’t question it anymore, I endeavor to be selfless in all my actions, I give back what an awesome man gave to me, lessons on how to live, and the integrity to live that way daily.

I know Adam touched a lot of people, he and I shared a lot of our pasts with each other, had so many nights of side ripping laughter. We’d write random stories, using random words we each picked. His carried a tone similar to mine, all about love, tying to find something pure in this world of material bullshit. The kid was flat out brilliant.

It’s not real, it’s too real. I’m not seeing this guy again. We talked Monday about hanging out soon, over the holidays. Now I will be at his funeral Saturday.

What’s the message? I have some hurt in me, but fuck these celebrity dickheads and twats that make the news when they die. No, Fuck the media for not really digging into the problem, to apply it to the less “beautiful” unknowns. A friend of mine has lost 3 people in 3 days.

Tragically flawed. Yeah, chasing happiness, chasing love. Warped thoughts, a purity desperate to attain, but we keep getting in the way. We are forcefed bullshit as to what makes us happy, a fucking iPhone, a $500 purse, a mansion, fuck off. When the menagerie is attained, the lie is exposed. Happiness comes from within. Beauty isn’t Victoria’s Secret shit. Fuck everyone responsible for creating such a skewed, unattainable, pointless dream.

There’s a fucking better way. Stop wallowing in the pain. Addicts go through hell, inflict unimaginable pain on themselves. Too often they don’t realize the greater the pain endured, the sweeter the pleasures experienced.

Get selfless. Hold onto God and his will.
Selfish me hurts, I’m angry I lost my great friend. Selfless me is there for others tho are the pain, and this hurts, but I also take comfort: Adam’s pain is over and he’s probably writing with Hemingway and jamming with Hendrix looking down, proud to have met everyone of us.

It’s not goodbye, I know you’re up there, probably even helping me type something with meaning because my mind is a million places.

I love you Adam. I’m a better man for knowing you the brief time I did. The Christmas irony is too much though, even if Harry did call. I know you laughed at that one.

And I’m going to miss you so much bro, but you’ll be in my heart, and looking out for us all, because that’s the kind of guy you are.


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