This is a weird thing to say, since I live alone in a one story house. Jesse will always be my upstairs neighbor, though. He was the first friend I made when I moved to Manhattan in 2002. When I moved, the person whose space I was filling in the apartment hadn't moved out yet, so I was couch surfing for a week. I was sitting out on the back of my car one night being sad and annoyed because the living room where I was roughin' it was being used as a living room. I was out there a good long while and suddenly a dude sits next to me on the car and asks if I'm alright. He'd noticed that I hadn't really moved in like an hour. He just hung out with me and we talked a while. He lived 2 floors above us. From that point on, we were buddies. parties, Mario Kart tournaments, movies...

Jesse ran interference on the guy who tried to stalk me. He's a good dude. He hit some rough times. He had an ugly divorce, he turned to drinking and then he beat it. He has 2 little boys who adore him. He died yesterday. I hadn't talked to him since 2014, because life is that way, but I miss him already.

The world needs more kind people.