RIP “Friend”

A candid eulogy

No human being, when you understand his desires, is worthless. No one's life is nothing. Even the most evil of men and women, if you understand their hearts, had some generous act that redeems them, at least a little, from their sins.

-Orson Scott Card, Speaker for the Dead

It’s been a week since your passing. I’ve talked to dozens who knew you. Everyone’s first reaction was a form of "did he fake his death?" Followed by "did someone kill him?" Some said they’re not sure how to feel about your passing. I suffer the same.

You were once a very close friend of mine. You were a friend I met later in life. A friend I chose, not a friend of convenience. We met once in 2016 then again in 2017 and were close for almost two years. There was deepness within you. For all your faults, you were trying to do good. I still believe that. Your zest for life and relentless optimism brought joy to those around you. Even if it was fleeting.

Some relationships have glass shattering moments. When the glass is shattered, one sees the other for who they truly are. With this new perspective, one can look back and see the now obvious signs. Similar to movies like Fight Club with Tyler Durden. Everyone who got to know you experienced this glass shattering moment. 

You once showed me a slide highlighting investments you made. Months later, I saw one of the companies declared bankruptcy. I told you I heard what happened and was sorry about your investment. You told me you never invested in that company. You said it was just showing companies you may invest in. I assumed I misremembered. Looking back, there were numerous signs.

One could say you were an Icarus. But that oversimplifies you. Your enthusiasm was infectious. You had your own reality distortion field. The problem was when reality eventually caught up to you. You were an amazing connector, but you couldn't figure out a way to build. Maybe because you were always distracted and looking for the next thing.

There are many networkers who aren’t capable of building. If you simply leveraged that skill, you would have been an all star agent, recruiter, politician, salesperson, or investment banker. These are all valuable professions. With your intelligence, drive, charm, and knack for meeting and connecting people, you could have added tons of value to the world. You could have brought lasting joy instead of the fleeting kind. But you had to be an entrepreneur.

You started a bed linens company, a scarf company (said you were selling scarves from the same factory as Loro Piana. They weren’t.), a belt company, a suitcase company (said you were partnered with the founder of Tumi), an outdoor elliptical bike company, a hotel amenities company, a music management company, a non-profit to provide water to Syrian refugees, a crypto fund, an investment company, a tech company, and probably a few others. Many of these I learned about this week. There were grains of truth in all of these. There were also plenty of exaggerations and lies.

I was one of the few who was close with you and didn’t get caught up in any of your business schemes. We were exploring starting a business together, and you crossed a line. Besides brief texts, I hadn’t spoken with you in over two years. Perhaps this lends me some clarity. But it’s still difficult knowing what you’ve done to others. Over the last few years, I’ve heard stories of you burning bridges left and right. 

You were enamored with wealth and status. Status in fashion, status in politics, status in business. The only time I saw you unable to process something was when others declined high status invitations. You couldn’t comprehend that not everyone was enamored with status. 

It seemed like you only kept people around when you wanted something from them. When you didn’t need someone anymore, you’d disappear. Onto your next target who can help you achieve your next goal.

A basic con man couldn’t have done what you’ve done. The relationships you formed were real…ish. I feel I had genuine moments of connection with you. At least, I hope I did. You told me you wanted to be president of the EU. You would have been a successful politician. You would have had scandals typical of career politicians. But you would have been amazing at that role.

I wish I knew what your true end goal was. What led you to live the life you led? I heard this week you once said your dad murdered your mom. I was also told for the first time that you have a sister. I never knew. You said you grew up at the Vatican. You said you spoke 7 languages including Latin fluently. You said you were a doctor and went to Harvard Medical School. You said many things… I went to the Vatican with you. I met a Cardinal with you, but I don’t know what’s true anymore. It doesn’t matter. What matters are the experiences we had, the emotions we felt, and what you left behind.

You would often speak of Seneca. You’d speak of the necessity of politics and how it can do good in the world. The power of politics and the power of negotiations behind closed doors. You loved to convene and make plans. Your genuine excitement was contagious. We parted ways when your convening led to conniving. I didn’t know where your life was taking you. I didn’t expect you to pass so young.

Death is what makes life precious. Death is also overwhelmingly sad. Especially when it’s sudden and happens to someone who had a long life ahead of them.

You lived more in 34 years than most do who live to 100. You exhausted every moment. I appreciated your unique charm, drive, and resiliency. I met incredible people through you. I’ll treasure those relationships. I’ll treasure the experiences we had together as they taught me about myself and others. Thank you.

You remind me of a relative who suffered from addiction. They had a similarly joyous aura. They lied about their addiction and ended up passing because of it. You didn’t pass away from addiction, but it feels like you essentially did. Your life didn’t need to end. You could have come back a better person. I think you had it in you. That’s what I mourn. I mourn the potential you had that is now forever lost.