To all you non readers out there. . .

Where to start? The past year and change has been a doosy. August 26th marked two momentous occasions for Ian, The eight month anniversary of Drew and I and the year anniversary of my cousin BJ's death. Let me begin with the sad.

BJ was one of the greatest kids I have ever known. He was smart and funny, charismatic, charming, and all-around a good person. He had a great life ahead of him, and hell up until his death he had a great life. All of us in the family loved BJ. He was a shining example of what our family could produce. He wasn't a weird artist or an alchoholic, he wasn't a jerk and he never felt sorry for himself. He was stand up in every way.

On August 26th 2006 his boss was driving the two of them home in BJ's car. It was a Porsche Boxter convertible. Both of them were stone cold sober. His boss took a turn funny and rolled the car into a tree. Both died on impact.

It's been a year and the sadness of his lost still lingers. I was the person that BJ came to often for advice on girls, or if he wanted to drink a beer and hang out. I remember the first time he got drunk. We were camping out in Westport, surfing. We laid out on the beach under a huge blanket of stars and talked about girls and life. I taught him the finer points of PBR.

I remember the first time he smoked pot with his dad. It was his birthday. I set up the whole affair, and for once I felt like the person who brought family together. I usually am the one that pushes people apart. I was proud in a strange way. It reminded me of the first time I smoked with my dad. It said, in one great acrid cloud of smoke, we're family. Families should play together.

In some ways I feel a responsibility in his death. Why? I don't know. Maybe it was because I was so frank with him; that there were times where I was a bad influence. But isn't that what you do as the older cousin? Show the kids what's bullshit and what isn't? But I can't shake the guilt. Even thought there was nothing I could have done, that in no way to I even share responsibility for his death I still feel it's weight on my shoulders every day. I love you BJ and miss you dreadfully.

And now onto the Good. Drew. Where can I begin? You spend your life jumping from one meaningless fling, one night stand, relationship, date, to another and think that you will be destined to never be more to anyone than a great fuck, and then the most amazing woman drops in your lap.

Drew is everything I need. She is smart and funny, successful, she has huge amounts of drive. She pushes me to be more creative. She is beautiful and tender. She can handle me. Maybe not completely handle me, but she can put up with my insanity better than anyone I have ever known. I don't know how she does it. How she can be around my wild and boundless bouts of uncompromising rage. The world falls apart. I am nothing.

And again and again, a hand reaches into that void, clawing with fervent love. It reaches into the muck, the brine, the sewage and saliva, it dives deep into the cesspool of my heart and pulls me back out into the light. It cleans off the feces and vomit and says "I love you." She melts me. She breaks me down to make something new and better. I am more of a man. More human. More Divine. More vulnerable. I am more myself than I have ever been.

I love you, Drew.