Zach sucked at baseball. That was my first impression of him. He was overweight, couldn’t catch, had a weak arm, and could barely make contact in batting practice. He also didn’t give a fuck that he sucked. I fell in love with that kid. 

As I sit here in a jail cell inside of a prison, countless memories flash through my head, memories I made with someone who was once my very best friend on earth. There were a lot of things Zach wasn’t, but there is one thing that I know everyone who ever met him would agree with: Zach was a friend. People always say ” Everyone loved (deceased person here)” when they pass away, but Zach was different. Everyone loved that motherfucker. His desire to please everyone he ever met probably had a lot to do with his path into addiction. Zach wasn’t just someone you could confide in with about anything, he was also down to do it with you. I don’t know that there is now a living soul who knows as many of my own deepest, darkest secrets as he did. Looking back in hindsight with a mixture of sadness and a whole lot of regret, I can see how all of that got to him. He was the man to go to when things in life got hard. He lent a listening ear better than anyone I’ve ever met. There was nothing in the world anyone would feel uncomfortable about when telling Zachary Outland. Maybe what I regret the most is that I didn’t listen back hard enough. I know he had his struggles, yet I hadn’t reached out to him in years. I asked about him from time to time, but I took the lip service of “Oh, he’s doing great” instead of finding out for myself. The lump in my chest tells me that I’ll feel this regret forever. Every one of us who used Zach during our saddest times in life will probably feel this way. He helped us, but when it came down to it, we failed him. I failed him. 

I could probably write a book full of memories I have with Zach, but the one that stands out to me the most was the summer of 2006. I needed a ride to ask the girl I was in love with to be my girlfriend. I remember pushing his black Chevy truck down the street to start it so his parents wouldn’t wake up. After I did my whole blanket-and-mixed CD-in-the-elementary-school-field-next-to-her-home routine, we went back to her house to hang out. Zach had been chilling with her sister, someone he didn’t actually know. This was no problem for him; he could talk to anyone. The next thing we knew, the door to the girls’ bedroom exploded off the hinges as her twenty-something-year-old brother came crashing in and ordered us out of their home. If I could have one more conversation with Zach, it would be to ask him what was going through his mind at that moment, and we would both laugh until tears came to our eyes once again. I think that moment is what sealed our friendship. We would always be friends. 

The blunt rides, the drunk nights, the golf course parties, the Ducketts’ beer pong table. Singing “American Love” by Haste the Day, “Threads of Sincerity” by Life in Your Way, and lots of A Day to Remember songs bring a smile to my face even here and now. But it’s a smile followed by sadness because these moments will never be the same now that you’re gone. Fuck, Zach. Why? You were such a great dude. The world needs you. I need you. I didn’t know I would miss you this much now that you’re gone. 

I don’t know what I believe about life after death. I don’t believe in the heaven and hell we grew up being taught about, but I know what I want to believe. I want to believe that when I die, I’ll find you again and we’ll go on one more blunt ride. I’ll tell you all about my daughter, how I finally fucked you-know-who. You’ll tell me where your life went and all of the things that you’ve experienced. Our relationship was special because we could laugh so hard one second and search each others’ souls the next. There is one less person on this earth who knows me to my core. I’m glad that at least we told each other often that we loved each other. Even though we hadn’t talked in a while, I know that you had no doubt about how I felt about you. I’ve had a lot of friends in my life, but there could only ever be one Zachy-Poo. I’ve never hoped for a life after death so badly. Anything to hear you laugh one more time. 

Rest in Peace, Zachary Outland. 

I’ll never forget you.

– Jeremy