Long Live The Queen 

Apparently there are seven stages of grief. Seven steps to go through till you feel ok again, like some kind of recipe for the biggest shit storm your little life can handle. 

stage 1 is shock and denial. When I found out you had died I was taking a bath. It took approximately one minute for me to recognise David’s voice, 3 minutes to understand what he was saying to me and what seemed like 2 seconds to get dry, dressed and start pacing the floor wondering what to do (turns out there’s nothing you can do, fuck all, it’s already too late) 

Stage 2 is pain and guilt. Cue huge amount of crying. My guilt came from the fact I am sure you did not know what impact you had on my life. I felt guilty I had never told you that speaking to you every day calmed my anger, soothed my sadness and most importantly taught me to laugh again. I felt guilty that you never knew I loved you. 

Stage 3 – Anger! This ones for me! I’m good at angry. I was furious, everything was unfair. I was livid when people comforted me, furious if they didn’t know. Angry that I was expected to work, angry that you weren’t there with me (we joked that the only way you could have some proper time off was by pegging it) more than anything I was angry that life just carried on, continued without you being in it. I argued, fought and sulked. No one was having your stuff, no one was having your job, no one was even allowed the honour of your name on their tongue unless I okayed it. 

Stage 4 – Depression. The most obvious. I thought I would be awful. My history of depression trying desperately to force its way back out. I think you’d be proud of how I shoved it back in. I was sad but I functioned. 

Stages 5,6,7 – upward turn, reconstruction, acceptance and hope. Do they really truely exist? I know you have gone yet I still don’t accept it. Although I learn to live, love and laugh again the sadness still remains. 

So it’s as easy as that. Follow these 7 simple rules and everything will be ok again!  If only!! There are no rules to grief, no plan, pattern or recipe. 2 years have passed and some days can feel as sad as the first without you. Other days I smile because I am lucky. Lucky to have had you as my friend, as brief and intense as it was. The laughs we shared still there, the in jokes and hour long phone calls. You were the most private, hilarious, caring person I knew and equally as evil as I am. 

I miss you today as much as always and tonight I’ll dance for the two of us.  

                            R.I.P CMC        

Frank Turner-Long Live the Queen