My Beyonce

"So baby raise a glass to mend all the broken hearts of all my wrecked up friends"

My best friend called me at 10:36am, Sunday the 28th of February. My life came to a standstill in that moment and for the first time I noticed how fast the world seems to spin. I watched it roar past like traffic either side of me while I stood suspended in a half second that promised never to end. Until atlast I gave in and admitted that I wasn’t the one looking on this time, this was happening to me. Horrible words lurched from a phone, my phone. Words that shrieked like metal on cement, inescapably mine. Preordained and unavoidable, they filled my ears, my eyes, my throat, my lungs, my stomach. They tore at the fabric of my soul, jeered at my naivety, ridiculed my careless love. One by one, each of us heard the news, one by one each of our hearts were ripped from our chests, leaving us to watch them beat feebly in the hands of fate.

That cruel fucking bitch, fate, that held our helpless hearts in one hand, while the other hand toyed with a heart on a roadside. I've tried my best to reason with that impossible whore. I beg for someone, anyone, whoever is listening, whatever is out there: please, not him. I beg outloud, willing to trade anything, strike any deal, believe any mantra: please, not him. The empty void of these dark hours surrender no consolation, just the dull glow of a Hope, however vain or valid. So we pull each other to our worn out feet, ration out even portions of the crushing weight of this grief to carry on our shoulders and accept the only alternative left to us: we carry on. Urged forward by each other’s strength, inspired by each other’s humility, humbled by each other’s courage, empowered by each other’s faith. The realisation of the fragility of human life brings with it the realisation of the strength of the human spirit.


I was given a bottle of Moet & Chandon for my 21st, I’m saving it to drink with you when you’re better, because you will be.