Dear S

Dear S*****

I found out this evening when I came home from work, stressed to the max.

So funny, you know. I thought of you just this afternoon when some random email came through and you popped into my head.

I thought “pffft, this is the kind of bureaucracy you hate”.

I’m sad we didn’t get enough time together.

Mind you, that’s the same lament everyone has when they lose someone.

But you, you the star.

You, the legend.

You, who loathed the very fibre of constraint.

You, who made me laugh at myself when I tried very hard to conform, and would applaud when I failed to do so. And you laughed and told me to “buy the J-Lo dress” that I never got to wear.

That line from Hedwig popped into my head as I mused over your life whilst washing the dishes this evening.

The last time I saw you, in some manic fly-by-let’s-stop-have-a-smoke-and-a-giggle, you’d throatily roared in hilarity over my inability to move beyond biblical names. And told me that you were not averse to “sloppy seconds, you do have excellent taste”.

You swooned over a picture of Cameron, and we rushed off in seperate directions, shouting promises to “hook up soon, get retarded and laugh about shit that doesn’t matter”.

Always you, with the bigger picture you were determined to draw yourself. Fuck the lines they told us we had to draw within.

My thoughts go to your family tonight. They may not have always understood but, I know they were so proud.

My thoughts go to your very close friends. I know their gratitude for the privilege of knowing you, knows no bounds.

I’d end with some lame quote but, nothing fits. So, I’ll leave it at this…

Thank you for inspiring me to draw my own lines, most especially at a time in my life when it seemed the lines others gave me were all that existed.

Thank you for your time with me.