I had a dream a little less than a year ago.
In my dream, there was some sort of a local meetup, and I was speaking with Jeff about a game where you shoot dudes in the face. While I was talking to him, Ryan came out of another room with an apron over a red shirt and a comically over-sized chef's hat, and yelled, "Who wants spaghetti?!"
I thought it was funny for a second, but was struck with a sudden sense of wrongness. In my dream, I couldn't put my finger on why, but I knew that I was never going to see him again. Ryan noticed my distress, and walked over to give me a hug. Now, I'm not a hugger; in general, I'm not a fan of physical contact. But I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed while my eyes welled up with tears, much like they're doing now. I woke up during the hug, and remembered the reason why I'd never see him. I didn't go back to sleep that night. I hardly slept at all the night I found out.
I never met Ryan in person, which is why I'm so surprised at how profoundly his passing has affected me. The deaths of people I've known personally didn't bother me this much, especially not a year later. I guess it's just a testament to the strength of his character. Thanks, Ryan Davis. I still really miss you.
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