Fake Friends And Fickle Feelings

Lately I’ve come to realise that some people were only friends with me because my boyfriend was dying.

Now that might sound harsh, but if you’re reading this and you were mutual friends with both Jonny and I yet you’ve not been in contact with me since… Maybe step back for a second and put yourself in my shoes.

The way I see it there are a whole load of people who were shocked, upset and heartbroken at Jonny’s death but I break it down a bit. There’s the inner circle – the people who’s hearts will never fully heal: family, I include myself in that group.
Next there’s the friends, radiating outwards like ripples; the best friends since childhood, the best friends from adulthood, the mutual friendship circles, the college buddies, old school friends, etc.
And lastly?
There’s the ‘hanger on’s.
These are the people that don’t quite fit into the ‘acquaintance, old friend, mutual friend of a friend’ group. These are people that like to think they’re in the inner circle. These are also people who use Jonny’s death to their advantage.
I’m talking about people who get a little kudos from being part of charity things inspired by Jonny’s memory because it makes them look good. People who know if they post something about Jonny on social media it’s going to get a lot of attention.
People who think they know how I feel because Jonny once got drunk and let slip a little emotion about his illness.
Worst of all, these people (and they are few and far between, obviously, the majority of people are understandably and legitimately grieving) like to think they know how I feel.

But lets get this straight, yes?
This is aimed not only at ‘hanger on’s but also all Jonny’s friends who were sad for a week or two but now don’t even acknowledge me in the street:

Do you wake up every morning and feel your chest tighten when you remember that someone you love is gone? Do you reach over in bed only to realise the one person you want isn’t there? And will never be there?
This isn’t a break up. My boyfriend is NEVER coming back. 

Do you spend each and every day biting your tongue when someone mentions something vaguely related to Jonny?
Because if for even a second you let your guard down you will cry.

Do you wake up in the middle of the night because you’ve had such vivid nightmares, stemming from the post traumatic stress of having watched someone you love die, that you can’t even cope anymore?
Do you still send Jonny texts or call his answerphone in the middle of the night?
Do you say goodnight to his picture before bed and cry?

But lastly…
Do you think what I’ve written above sounds crazy?
Or like I’m not coping?

If the answer to that is ‘yes’ then I have news for you, my friend: you don’t actually know how I feel…
(shock horror!)
And you’re not actually grieving on the same level because you’ve already got through that bit.

So maybe I’m glad no one talks to me anymore, because maybe it saves me from having to keep explaining myself…
But take it from me – if this was the other way round I would make sure you ALWAYS knew you were loved and supported and looked after.

Because it feels like shit when you realise no one wants you around without your other half…
That’s how I’ve been made to feel.
Because some people were only really my friend because my boyfriend was dying…


The Hardest Day Of My Life

The Funeral.

So in a flourish of stars, sunflowers and hats we laid our Jonny to rest.

It was an amazing turnout, the crematorium was packed out almost everyone had bought single sunflowers as requested and customised their outfit in some way to include stars. Everyone was in hats, including silly, mad and homemade headpieces. It was quite a wonder to behold.

The funeral service itself was awful and wonderful in equal measure.
I was travelling with the family in a car behind the hearse. Waiting to see the coffin with my own eyes was my worst nightmare. I was most scared of seeing that box and knowing my baby was inside and I couldn’t touch him or see him. It’s bringing me to tears just writing this.

The florist messed up my flowers. The family requested no flowers and allowed me a special wreath; so that it would stand out (considering everyone was bringing single sunflowers to carry they didn’t want hundreds of bunches to bring home).
A week ago I ordered the most beautiful customised star shaped wreath with sprays of sunflowers throughout. It cost me a lot of money…
The hearse arrived and my flowers weren’t there.
It wasn’t like I needed an extra reason to cry, but I really started wailing and gasping through tears. The coffin just looked so bare without my flowers. I was so angry and sad and I just kept thinking how much I was letting Jonny down. All I wanted was for this day to be perfect and now it felt ruined.

The hearse was followed by the car with the family (his parents, sister, her boyfriend, myself and my mum for support). A second car followed carrying his band mates and their girlfriends and behind them was a smaller car with his 3 childhood mates and a close friend of the family.

The hearse parked up in front of the family home. Jonny had always wanted to come home and this was as close as we got to fulfilling his wishes.
I was on edge the whole way to the crematorium, silent tears flowing constantly as I stared blankly out the window.

Just before we arrived the boys from the band, their girlfriends, and Jonny’s childhood friends got out and flanked the hearse, sunflowers in hand, as it proceeded to turn into the crematorium followed by the family car.
That was when it really got me. I just kept thinking how wrong it was to see 21 year olds walking their beside their best friends body to pay their final respects.
We turned the corner and it was such a sight to behold people lining the road, a crowd of mourners in funny hats and a sea of sunflowers swam into my teary vision.

It’s not right when the amount of young people at a funeral almost outweighs the proper grown ups…

The service was incredible, as a musician Jonny was carried into his own song. There were 5 speakers including myself. Though how I managed it I’ll never know. I only said a few words. I faltered completely on the first line and all I could hear was the celebrant asking if I wanted him to read it. I choked through it because it was so important to me to say it. I stood with his best friend who read after me and then I kissed the lid of the coffin because I knew that was the last time I’d ever be that close to my boy.

The closed the curtains and he went out to Johnny B Goode.

I don’t think there was a single second in that room that I wasn’t in tears. Everybody remarked on what a lovely service it was and how rock and roll and joyful it had been, for a funeral.

It was a lovely send off for a lovely boy.

It was also closure and finality, and that scares me. Everything changes now, more so than before. It still blows my mind how the love of my life is now ash and dust. I got through yesterday because I had to, not because I wanted to.

I hope that wherever Jonny has gone he’s sleeping tight. 

But more than anything, I hope it comes across on this blog, in my everyday life, and when I spoke yesterday, just how much I loved that boy. I would’ve done anything and he was worth it.

Rest peacefully Jonny Walker. ❤

Trapped In A Nightmare

It’s been a week now.
I genuinely don’t know how I’ve done it.
It still feels as raw as it did on the day and, if it’s possible, I miss Jonny more each morning I wake up without him.

I am completely uninterested in a life that doesn’t include Jonny Walker.

Don’t worry, I’m not suicidal! If anything I want to live more than ever before; why would I take my own life when there are people like Jonny who don’t have a choice?

There are people out there who are literally dying to be alive.

No one should ever abuse the gift of existence; it’s a cliché but it’s never been more prevalent to live everyday like it’s you’re last.
Especially for me; I’m going to travel the world. I’m going to work hard. I’m going to follow my dreams and jump into a career that brings me happiness. I’m going to take each and every opportunity that’s thrown at me no matter how scared I am. I’m going to climb mountains, walk the great wall of china, swim the channel.
I’m going to live like each second of my life is a privilege and a blessing and a pleasure to be a part of.

But I’d swap all of that to bring Jonny back. I would give my own life to have him here. I’d sign my soul away on the dotted line for Jonny to have a second chance.

Nothing is a consolation.

Not the memories, or the friendships formed out of this tragedy, or the fact I’ve ‘become a stronger person’.

I would trade it all in to sit beside him and look at his beautiful face again for even a second.

I can’t comprehend that he’s gone and I don’t believe it. If I think too much about the fact he is no longer of this world it blows my mind and it scares me so much I want to curl up and scream.

There’s so much pain inside my head I’m scared it will destroy me.

I’m having nightmares now. I can’t sleep. I can’t imagine a day where I don’t wake up crying. I can’t imagine a day where I don’t think about him. If anything it scares me; the thought that in the future everything will become so normal that Jonny only flutters through my mind every now and again.

What I do know is you never get over something, you just learn to live with it. The grief will never go away, it’ll just become so second nature that I’ll have no choice but to cope with it. It won’t get smaller in my mind, it’ll just become cluttered with bigger, happier things.

But even with all that said… It’s only been a week and I just bloody miss him….

Jonny dangling his legs or a canal in central Amsterdam, 2014.

Jonny dangling his legs over a canal in central Amsterdam, 2014; his bucket list holiday.