John Galt.

While packing up boxes and going through old high school photos - it dawned on me that my John Galt died on May 6th, 2005.

In high school Matt and I were inseparable. I couldn't even figure out a way to sneak him on the girls bus for Cross Country meets, trust me I tried. We talked on the phone until we passed out - well into college. He faked failing in spanish our junior year as a reason to have me as a tutor. Our "honors AP english" class was nothing short of a Ms. Williams' least favorite group of students - it was split with athletics and she despised all of us, especially me. A bunch of bratty, honors students she saw everyday for 45 minutes and then left and went to their sport of choice. "The Jocks" she called us. We didn't mind. There was more drama in that room every single day than any reality show could ever dream of writing about.

Matthew was a phenomenal writer. Truly the best. He and I fought mostly over the usage of idea vs. ideal(s) and the occasional comma placement but not much else. We had a mutual love of nature, music, photography, sports, movies and laughter. We were never bored. EVER. The only reason I know anything at all about baseball is due to Matt's incessant following of the Kansas City Royals whom he loved dearly. When I came home from NYC with Yankees cap in '97 we became sheer enemies for more reason than one. He was the first boy I ever told that I loved and I did - wholeheartedly and still do. I see him everyday in some way - smart ass grin and all. Life on this earth, in this way is short. Embrace it and those you love - hang on for dear life.