Mark was at school with me, we started dating when we were 15, but that didn’t last for too long and we decided we made better friends. We went through so much teenage angst together, went on trips together, shared the same taste in music, went to clubs and danced for hours, talked for hours, and even though we moved humdreds of miles apart as adults we never lost touch as our lives took us in different directions.

This week I found out that he had died, suddenly of a heart attack, at the age of 45. He was fit and healthy and hadn’t been ill. Yet here I am, overweight, high blood pressure and with years of eating dsorders and abusing my poor body behind me. It doesn’t make sense.

His funeral is on Wednesday and I still can’t believe I am going to the funeral of someone I feel I have known for all of my life. He is woven into my life in so many ways and I want to celebrate that fact and remember that for 45 years he LIVED and not focus on the fact that he has died.

Mark, I love you, you will always be special to me and I hope that you know that, wherever you are….