Mood: Devastated...

On Christmas morning, at 5:30am, my lifelong best friend, and best man at my wedding, Christopher Alan Zoumbilys, died at the wheel of his car, aged 21 years old.

He was speeding, doing 150km/h coming around a roundabout in McCraken St, Essendon, and crashed into a tree, killing him instantly.

He had his cousin and soulmate, Nick, in the passenger seat. He escaped with head injuries, but lived.

The tree Chris hit was right outside the fence of our school.

I loved my mate. He was my brother. For ten years, he has always been there for me, making me laugh. I could always rely on him for anything. He would move heaven and earth for me in an instant. But not just for me. Chris would do anything for anyone. Doesn't matter who you are, if he called you a friend, he would do so for life.

I am very proud to claim myself his best mate. It is an honoured and privileged position, and I will forever remember my brother in my heart.

Chris, I know you are up there mate, sitting at the right hand of the Lord Christ. Your name means Bearer Of Christ, and you beared Christ for every man woman and child who ever met you.

Please don't crash God's laptop though mate, we don't need an angry God right now

Say G'day to your grandfather for me. Say G'day to my grandmother Betty for me, she loved you too mate, could never get her head around your wacky antics but loved you nevertheless.

I will see you one day, I'll be eighty or ninety years old, a great-great-grandfather, and I will hug you and tell you how miserable my life was without your laughter and cheekiness. Then I will turn to the Lord, and he will have some mighty explaining to do to me, to make me understand finally why I had to lose you.

Until that day, I promise to look after your family.

May you rest in peace, and go with God.

May God see your purity of heart, and bless you.

I'm sure he has already mate.

Your friend, now and forever,

Ryan. Skip. D-oh-nut. Stretch. Dopey.

Brother.

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Nothing without my mate