I don't have a way to explain what it feels like to lose the person who understood you most in the world.

Max wasn't just my brother. He was my best friend. The one person I could count on, completely, no matter what. When I lost him, I lost the other half of a thing I didn't even know had a name until it was gone.

But I also became a better person because of him. He showed me — just by being himself — what it looks like to live for other people. After he died, I cut out what wasn't working in my life and started becoming someone he would have been proud of. I don't think I would be who I am today without him — without the years we had together, and without what his loss forced me to face.

He was a diamond. That's why it's on my tattoo.

This site is for him. It's for my mom, who fought like hell to make sure his death meant something beyond our family. And it's for everyone who ever crossed his path and felt — even briefly — like the world was a little warmer because Max Dobner was in it.

He was 19 years old. He touched more lives than most people touch in a lifetime.

Miss you every day, brother.

— Justin