Robert Jason Lerma Jr.

There are people who walk through this world quietly—and then there are people like Robert. He didn’t just live. He roared. He crashed into life with love, chaos, light, and pain all wrapped into one body. One beautiful, unforgettable body. A body that held more than most ever could.

Robert wasn’t just someone we lost—he was someone the world never truly deserved. He had more heart in him than anything this life could handle. His laugh cracked the silence. His pain moved oceans. His love—his love—was powerful, complicated, raw, and real. And even now, it wraps around all of us like armor.

He was hurt. Deeply. In ways most will never grasp. But what made him extraordinary was that he carried that pain with strength. Turned it into power. Into protection. Into love. Even when he was bleeding inside, he never let anyone else suffer alone. He took on more than anyone ever should. He was the strong one. In the darkest of nights, when the world turned its back, he stood. Even when he had nothing left. Even when the weight should’ve crushed him—he stayed standing.

He carried the pain of generations. But he didn’t let it end with him—he broke the curse. He looked into the chaos of this world and still had the courage to dream. He still loved. Still gave. Still laughed. Still fought. He was resilience itself.

He loved his son. Fiercely. Protectively. More than anything. He wanted to give him a better world. A freer world. A real chance. And he did. Even if he’s not here physically, he still is. His love lives through his boy. Through every lesson, every instinct, every part of him. He will live on forever through him.

I was honored to be his gatekeeper. To be the one entrusted with his fire. To hold it in the moments he forgot it was even still burning. To show him his own strength. To remind him that he was never too much. That he was exactly what this world needed—even when it couldn’t see him.

We did this together. We broke through the lies. Through shame. Through fear. Through trauma. We bled for this truth. We earned this peace. He and I—we were never meant to follow anyone else’s rules. We made our own. We were the light. The ones who knew. The ones who felt everything.

He was the key. Is the key. To our healing. To our power. To everything. And I will always carry him in my heart. Not because I have to. But because I choose to. Because I’m proud. Because he’s worth it. He’s worth everything. Everyone. More.

He was the best part of this life.
The reason we are still here.
The reason we’re even able to keep going.
The reason we can even breathe.
And I’ll scream it until the world finally listens.

Because in his death—we became immortal.
In his pain—we found freedom.
In his fire—we were reborn.
And everyone will know it.

This is not the end.
He lives.
In me.
In his son.
In all of us who carry the flame.

Forever.