A musician, Mark Lanegan. He was the singer of Screaming Trees, one of the earlier Seattle bands tagged as grunge. He went on to record a huge body of imcredible, highly acclaimed work both solo, and with other artists such as Queens of the Stone Age and Isobel Campbell.
He had absolutely debilitating addictions to alcohol, heroin & crack. He got clean in the early 2000's, and had just moved to Ireland with his wife and sounded to be settling in to a quiet and contented life, when he got Covid so badly he spent months in a coma. He seemed to be on the mend, and then he died.
His memoir, Sing Backwards and Weep, is one of the best things I've ever read, in turns heartbreaking and hilarious.
Anyway, he died just over 2 years ago and I grieved, and still am grieving. I'll wake up in the night crying and feeling sick to the stomach. I know it isn't normal. But shortly after he died I was diagnosed with incurable cancer. I'm sure a psychologist would say I'm actually crying for myself. I don't know.
Other deaths have upset me a lot - Kurt Cobain, Taylor Hawkins, Terry Pratchett, John Peel, Amy Winehouse, David Bowie - but not on the same level.