On the morning of the 17th October you will have been dead for seven years.
For 350 days of the year I have learnt to deal with that fact, whether I like it or not, and live my life the best I can.
But when October hits and this date looms a certain melancholy comes over me.
You appear in my dreams. I get flashbacks to the moment I got a confusing voicemail from my granddad, trying to calm me down before I even knew what had happen, and I remember the ridiculous light blue tweed two piece with big gold buttons I wore on that day.
I remember the Starbucks frappuchino I ordered once I had spoken to my mum, when I just didn’t know what to do with myself so just sat, starring at my iced coffee.
I try to think what my life would be like had you lived on. What different path would 22 year old Stella have taken had her world not fallen apart that day? I would have had more security, a home, a fall back..but would I have come as far as I have now? Worked as hard as I have? Become the strong, independent individual I am today?
I google your name. I see a couple of ghost social media accounts like Twitter still floating in the world wide web as if you were still alive and always re-read the very short and unromantic death announcement posted by the British dental board on their website. It’s strange to think what little evidence there is now that you were ever on this planet apart from the hole you left in mine and my mum’s life.
But the week passes and the day passes and I will never know if you are proud of the adult I have become, if you would enjoy the films we would have been watching together or would ridicule the outfits I still waste my money on… but that is ok. This time of the year will forever be a sad but it means you aren’t forgotten and will never be.
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