For Alex,

When I was told this morning that my friend Alex had died, I thought it was a dark joke. I figured that one of my other friends had laid the verbal smack down on him like we often do to each other, but no; Alex is gone.

I sat at my desk at work, staring at the messages, re-reading and re-reading until my brain finally accepted that they were true and when I did, I began to shake uncontrollably.

I tried to calm myself, but couldn’t break from the spell of shock I was currently under. So I got up and left work. I called my friend and spoke about it in length, together trying to come to an understanding and mutual coping of the event. When I hung up the phone I immediately turned on the only song that came to my mind, “Long Live the Queen” by Frank Turner.

I’m not familiar with death. I’ve experienced two major deaths in my family and have never attended a funeral. I consider myself very lucky in that regard, but today I feel as if that luck has run out.

I don’t wish this to be about me, but I feel I need to give some context about myself so you understand what this means to me. I’m an awkward dude. I’m good at faking confidence, but I would much rather be home alone than go out even at age 20 with a full city in front of me to explore, I have a routine that I stick to that involves little to no movement outside of my apartment.

My siblings accuse me of being emotionally unavailable, and maybe they’re right, but I don’t think so. I think the better term is I’m emotionally awkward. I feel a lot of emotions very intensely, but I’m also somewhat afraid of them. I struggle to communicate them to the people around me, so instead I just don’t talk about them and hide them behind a facade that is cool, calm, and collected.

Recently, I’ve been doing a lot better at expressing my emotions and vulnerabilities to my friends, and the honest truth is that courage is in large part because of Alex and our shared friends.

I don’t know if you know this, but I live in Tulsa, OK. That’s a very long ways away from my home town of Geneseo, IL. That means I only get to see my friends in person about once a year. So rather than spending a year alone, I communicate with my friends through the same platform that our friendship blossomed from, the internet, or in short, we play video games together.

However, as we’ve gotten older, we’ve begun to play less and just talk more. The brilliance of Xbox Live is that it’s less of service for gaming and more for communication. After I moved to Tulsa, we began to have regular late night talks that would last until 2 AM in the morning. We talked about issues of morality, relationships, and fears. These talks helped me become more confident in my ability to share my inner thoughts and struggles with people — something that has been a life long struggle of mine. These talks brought us all closer together and made us better people.

Alex was a part of that, and in retrospect, I’m so happy he was. Often times he was only a listening ear, but for me personally, having someone listen and not judge was huge for my confidence in sharing openly and I thank him for that.

Life is a fickle thing, and on one hand that’s kind of shitty, but on the other, it’s what makes life special. Alex was 19 and I’m pissed that he won’t get experience the amazing things that were ahead of him still. However, it brings me comfort knowing that he was happy with where he was currently and where he was going. Because at the end of the day, that’s all you can ask for when you take your last breath.

I don’t want that to sound like a justification or anything like that, that’s not my intention. Like I said, I’m awkward with emotions so please excuse my mindset as it can be taken wrong if not thoroughly explained and understood.

Alex was just like the rest of us, imperfect. But he was a good and faithful friend who’s imperfections created the person that we loved. He brought fun and friendship wherever he went, whether that be a tennis meet, a band trip, or a late night high school party, he made things exciting and brought people together.

I don’t really know how to compose this, so I’m just going to write the way I feel.

To Alex,

I’m so sorry mate. I know you wanted more and had imagined being with us much much longer than you were, but you lived your life to the max and you proved so much to the world. Your accomplishments won’t be forgotten, nor will your friendship. I don’t know where you are now, but I hope it’s fun and you’re taking on a new and exciting adventure. You deserve it.

Love,

Pierce

To the Williams,

I don’t envy you and I will never pretend to know your pain and agony, but I want you to know that your son was loved by many and brought so much good to this world. He was caring, funny, smart, loyal, and a damn good musician. I never really got to meet Mr. Williams, but Mrs. Williams, you were always an absolute joy to be around, whether that be before a dance, at a band event, or at the mini-golf. I’m so sorry for your loss and there’s nothing that I or anyone else can do to replace him, but do know that we all are here for your entire family even if that here is 600 miles away. I hope that you can some day find some sense of normality and joy again, hopefully sooner than later.

Love,

Pierce

I’m still trying to figure out how to write and format this in a way that makes coherent sense, but maybe that’s not what’s needed today.

I just want to say, to every single one of my friends — especially those who have to deal with the trauma of being there when it happened — I love you and I want you all to live long and fruitful lives. I want you to be happy and I want you to live life to the max, but please be careful because this sucks for everyone. I don’t blame anyone, but we could all do with being a bit more careful at times, especially in peer pressure situations.

I want to end this with the story of the last time I saw Alex.

It was August of 2017, after spending 4 days at Lollapalooza, I was able to return home to Geneseo for a day-and-a-half to spend with my friends whom I hadn’t seen in a year-and-a-half. We went to the tennis courts, played tennis and ran around like idiots, and then went to the Mini-Golf to hang out, where we did for several hours. At the end, we said our goodbye’s but Alex’s goodbye stood out as he opened his arms for a hug and said “Love yah bro”. It took me by surprise as that’s not exactly normal between guys, but I stopped and embraced him and said “Love yah too man” and then I departed.

That’s the last time I ever saw him alive. I was lucky enough to talk to him many more times over Xbox Live, but I cherish that memory because it’s the best possible way I could have of remembering him and it illustrates beautifully how different and special he was as a man, and as a friend.

Thank you Alex,

Love Pierce