I found out a classmate I had known since elementary school died of cancer. He was the guy who made jokes, not fun of others but of himself. He talked back but out of harmless fun. He was always making a fool of himself, but had the biggest smile on his face when he made everyone laugh.

Of course, class clown was his label, but he made the title into something to live for.

He was my age. And in your 20s, you’ve barely lived. You’re considered an adult but everyone knows you have so much more to experience. To travel, fall in love until you get it right, and to make as many mistakes as you can until life holds you by the hand.

I never kept in touch with this friend but I don't remember having a bad interaction with him. I saw the inspiration in others he created just by making everyone else smile. And everything he was for the people around him.

If he can invoke this type of nostalgia in me, a girl who isn’t even friends with him on Facebook… I can’t imagine how his family and true friends feel.

I’m so glad you had an appearance in my life and that you gave everyone a smile to follow.

I’m glad my last name was right after yours because that’s how I met you and how I came to know you in small bursts.

I’m glad you knew the difference (for the most part; but hey, we were kids who didn’t know any better) between truly hurting someone to be funny and taking situations and turning them into something more.

I’m glad you grew alongside me. Although at different spectrums, I never forgot about you. And every time I’ve heard your name, to this day, the only image I can imagine is you stealing the little black, plastic combs they handed out for picture day. I don’t think I ever laughed as hard, annually, as on those picture days.

I know you’re not in pain anymore, I just hope you know how many people you’ve touched. I hope you know how amazing you are. And how completely missed you are, even by an old classmate.

And I wish I had more to say, but I guess my shock has taken over and I do regret not keeping in touch. But I can’t help that now. I promise I’ll keep your memory, as I always have, but now it is an aspiration I’ve forgotten about.

I can’t say much more, but I can say this: I’m so glad you lived, Domo.