Thank you.

I just finished listening to the podcast.  I can't say enough how much I appreciate that you guys were able to pull it together enough to do one.

Grieving is hard.  And it's painful.  Especially when you do it alone.  I don't have anyone to talk to about this.  I tried to tell my my wife why I'm sad.  She tried to be understanding, which I certainly value, but she doesn't know anything about "those video games" or "those podcasts" that I listen to.  She doesn't get it.  Thank you for getting it.

You guys getting together, opening your hearts and minds so that we, "the fans", can share in the grief and honor the man that we love with the people that are closest to him...  Thank you for that, too.

In all of this, the hardest part for me is that while I feel that I have gotten to know him over the years, I realize that I know next to nothing about his personal family life.  That is the part that brings it back to the reality of the fact that there is this separation between what I feel about his death, and what I know about him.  I don't feel the need to pry, or dig around for details that are none of my business.  I will just try to appreciate the fact that this is the way it is, and perhaps the way that it should be.

You are right about time healing this stuff.  It does.  For me, when it has happened in my life, it didn't get better overnight, but it did happened.  People around you are going through the motions of living their lives, and you want to grab them by the shoulders and shake them, "Don't you know?  How can you act like this is a good day?  What aren't you in as much pain as I am?"  I don't know...

Thank you for celebrating Ryan in a way that I am unable to.  Thank you for sharing it with me.  With all of us.

Ryan Davis, a friend I never met.

It's such a strange little thing...

I don't have much of a circle of friends that is into gaming.  I have two good friends that are aware of games, but hell, they might go months without logging into Steam.  My dad likes some games, but they really aren't the games that I'm into.  My wife doesn't game, my daughter likes Minecraft and no one at work knows crap about my hobby.  Well, one guy plays World of Tanks religiously.

Gaming has become of hobby of solitude, the thing that I do alone.  Except for the podcasts.  I have over an hour in my car each way to work.  Solitude.  Or when I cycle.  Solitude, again.  Except I have my podcasts about gaming.

It's like I have a group of friends that I can sit around with, and B.S. about my hobby of choice with.  The hobby that I have been passionate about my entire life.  I might not be able to actually engage in the conversation, but some conversations are like that.

The GiantBombCast is one of those podcasts that I always listen to.  Every week.  Wednesday morning I know that I have 3 hours of conversation with "the guys" about some of my favorite things.  I subscribe to many different kinds of gaming podcasts, but I never miss that one.

Today, around noon, I learned that one of those friends had died.

Ryan, I never met you.  I have never even seen you in person.  But, these years of listening to you for 3 hours every week (I don't talk to some of my friends face-to-face for a fraction of that) I feel as though I have gotten to know you.  I have never been to your house, I don't have your phone number, and we have never gone out for drinks for someone's birthday.  But, you have become a part of my life.  I look forward to hearing from you every Wednesday morning.  "Hey everyone, it's Tuesday...."

You are a friend that I never met.  I will miss you more than I know how to say.