Moose, my man...
When Harin told me what happened, I didn't want to believe him. You were one of the most resilient and positive guys that I've ever known. So it really just did not make sense. None of this makes sense at all. How could you not be around anymore? You're one of those guys that always made your time available to your friends. You'd always show up. So honestly... it's really hard for me to accept this.
You know every time I think about you, one memory sticks. It's of those times we used to go play basketball at Glendal together. You, Harin, Tom, and I. We were just a group of tough ass teenage dudes, trying to make it to the NBA, we didn't have time for emotions. It wasn't "cool". Yet you were the one guy that made us stop our play, grab the ball off our hands randomly, put it on the ground to sit on it. And you'd say: "Alright, let's all have a DnM".
At the time we were all just like "Oh hell no, get out of here! DnMs are LAME". But you'd force us, and we'd talk. Talk about our feelings, talk about what we were struggling with. We'd talk about girls, we'd talk about our big dreams. You and I, we'd talk about our parents. We bonded over the pain we had to deal with growing up. It wasn't easy, but we made it through.
And as we finished up high school, we went on to chase these dreams. Obviously, the NBA never happened. But you'd move to Townsville for Med School, and I'd go to Canberra for Law School. We joked about being Harold and Kumar. God, I took you for granted.
The past 7 years, we didn't talk much. I mean, we caught up a few times, but I don't know man, you were just one of those guys that made it easy for me. We didn't need to always catch up, we've been friends for so long, I knew you were always gonna be around if I ever needed you. Or you needed me. And we were supposed to go on that Sydney trip - you, me, Tom, and Harin. We kept delaying it, life and all that came up, and we just kept on pushing it back, years and years. But it would've been alright, because we'd get around to it eventually.
So honestly, my man, I feel kind of robbed.
There were so many things we were supposed to get to. You're one of those friends I just thought would always be around my life man. Our kids would be friends, they'd hear of our stories growing up in our neighbourhood. We'd tell them that they'd be lucky to be able to find friendships like the one we shared, being able to just rock up at each other's houses, chill out, sleep over, play Monopoly all night. Next morning I'd be like "Yo, my dog's being a pain in the ass in the backyard digging up all these holes, can you go take him out for a run?" And you'd come over within like 10 minutes and give her the work out of her life. Then we'd grow old, and I don't know man, I never brought up the idea with you, but I always thought it'd be so fun when we're like 100 or something, to go chill out at a nursing home together, go piss off some nurses you know? You and I, we'd walk behind some old fool, we'd scream "GET HIM!", and go give him a heart attack or something. Just like the good old days, yeah?
I'm seriously going to miss you man. Two nights ago I was driving to my girlfriend's house and "See You Again" came up on my playlist, and I just started crying. Pretty lame huh? But you'd probably like that, me being sensitive and all that. You'd probably go "alright how about we have a DnM now?"
I'm sorry I took you for granted, and I'm sorry I didn't hear about what happened to your parents last year. If I knew, I would've reached out. I would've made sure you were alright. I don't know, I wonder if I could've helped... just thinking about what you've gone through, how you must've felt for the past year, just breaks my heart.
Thank you for all the good laughs, the life lessons, the great chats. Thank you for inspiring those teenagers back then to be better people. I'm sure many of those around you can agree that we've all learned a lot from you, on kindness, on hard work, on how to have a lot of fun whilst riding along on the journey of life.
You've gone too early, but I seriously hope you're in a better place now. Tell your mum I said hi, tell her that every time I have papadums I think of the ones she made for us once. They were my first. And wait for me yeah? I'll join you there eventually.
In the meantime, you better wipe the dust off your ukulele. We never got around to making those AJ Rafael covers you know? Let's pick it up when I get there.
See you again Moose.
Rest in peace and paradise,
Tom Xu