I know I haven't written before now, but I didn't think I could. Still not sure I can. Thank God I'm doing this in the privacy of my own home.
I miss you. I miss you more than I have the vocabulary to say and, as you well know, I have a massive vocabulary. (And choose to use it most of the time.)
I didn't realise I'd miss you this much and sometimes I forget. In a way, that's the worse thing. Forgetting. You were such an inherent part of my life that to realise you are gone is bizarre. There is no other way to describe it. It's not just wrong; it's not just sad. It's weird. Unacceptable. Unbeliveable. I'll be in The Sloop and expect you to walk in. Or at least text to say you're running late!
I've looked back over my Facebook today and realised just how often you mentioned me - and so many other people. We all miss you. Much as you pissed us off with your paranoid belly-aching, we loved, love you. So much has changed since you've gone. Some of it had to. Some of it is as a result. My life is inexorably altered.
Crying is something you know I did far too much but hated. And crying is something I've tried my utmost to avoid. But I can't not. When I think about never seeing you again, never having a random conversation, never again bemoaning your lack of organisation, it is more than I can physically bear. And I cry.
I wish to God I had spoken to you more before you were gone. Life is not the same, and I don't want it to be. I just want to be able to hug you once and breathe in that aroma of Gav. My friend. My comfort.
Ro. La Seductrice. Rosemary. xx