Dustin was the most private person.

Until he opened himself up for the ones he trusted.

And then?

Then he was everything.

Laughter, depth, ridiculous stories, showing pain he never made dramatic, and a loyalty so fierce you never questioned it.

Dustin was a protector, a caregiver, a best friend, a prankster, and a lover. Family was important to him.

He had a passion for life and travel. He loved all of us in his own special way. He loved us at our level individually.

For his girlfriend Jeni, he was a rock. A stable energy that she relied on for comfort and support. He loved her and she knew that.

For Mom, he was a jokester and literally sat on her lap until he was 12 (family joke, kidding). He taught her how to be the most affectionate because he needed so much healing as child (surgery, broken legs, mauled by a dog all before 5).

For Dad, Dustin looked up to dad. He learned to fish from dad, work on cars with dad, and adopted dad’s demeanor. They were a lot alike.

For Jon and I, Dustin was a brother and a best friend. We grew up together, we fought, we cried, we learned, we imagined, we defended each other and we fiercely loved each other. No one knew Jon and I like Dustin did.

That goes the same for all of the people in Dustin’s life. No one knew you like Dustin did. And no one will be the same with him gone.

That kind of love doesn’t just leave when someone dies.

It haunts the room.

It stays in the cracks of the door he used to walk through.

It stays there forever.