Phone call yesterday. Casual mention of a death, of someone I adored. I couldn't talk more, then I cried.
Spent 24 hours wishing I had told him what he meant. We were friends and colleagues, we spent time together, we laughed, we danced.
He risked a madman with a broken bottle for me when I was stalked. Not only this, but spent time making sure I was OK and home safe afterwards.
He made sure that an abusive ex could not come near me. He risked a lot doing that, but just stated that he would 'deal with it'.
When my drink was spiked, he sat up all night with me. Took me to his house, gave me water, tea and care. He talked me through that nasty LSD episode, despite having never taken drugs.
He then took me home.
He was never inappropriate. He was an incredibly popular man, but always had time for me.
He never knew how much difference he made. I wish I had sat him down and explained. I wish I could talk to him now.
I want to see him smile again.
I trawled YouTube for videos, but couldn't find them.
He wasn't old. He wasn't obviously ill. They are waiting on postmortem.
I hope he knows how much I loved him.