When Shzaam told me a year and a half ago that he tested positive for HIV, I kind of gave him the same reaction I would if he had told me that his dry cleaner ruined his favorite suit. While I can't say that I was entirely shocked by his news, it didn't really dawn on me that Shzaam could actually get really sick very quickly. Although there is no cure for HIV, I assumed that with all of the advances in medicine that pill popping and regular check ups would ensure that he continued to have a good quality of life for at least the next decade or so.

While medicine may manage the disease, it did little to manage Shzaam's willpower. Frustration with his doctors inability to do anything mounted as job opportunity after job opportunity fell through. His social life went from clubbing 2-3 times a week to juggling Action committee meetings and fighting MassHealth red tape. Impatience, boredom, and depression quickly set in as Shzaam completely lost the ability to control his life on his terms.

He made the decision to move back with his parents back in September. Plagued with a broken hip, this once healthy 37 year old can barely manage to get out of bed. While he's trying to remain upbeat, lymphoma and full-blown AIDS are in a battle to take over his body. During our visit yesterday he told me that the doctors informed him that he has two weeks left to live. After speaking with Queen Dee last night I completely lost it. I understand that we're not here on this earth permanently but I am so angry right now. I can't do anything except watch my friend suffer a slow and painful death and it's just not fair.

I'll miss our arguments about the Red Sox and the way that we would describe in detail what we ordered off the Bertucci's take out menu. I'll miss the way that he never, ever answered his cell phone but would respond to every e-mail in under 3 minutes. I'll always remember how he went out of his way to help me move into my condo and how handsome he looked in his suit at Liz and Ally's wedding.

Shzaam isn't dead yet and while I'm praying for a miracle, I am not expecting a Hollywood ending. How do you tell one of your dearest friends how much his friendship means to you? How do you tell him that hanging out with him on Fridays at Flashes, chatting over garlic fries and beer were some of the happiest moments of your adult life? Or that our flurry of daily e-mail exchanges were a beacon of light in an otherwise mundane work day? Whether he meant to or not, Shzaam reached out and touched a lot of folks and we are all better people because we knew him.