Dearest WeeGee,

If felt apt writing you a letter here, on the anniversary of your death, since this is where we met. I remember the first time I found your blog, I felt so connected to you instantly through your words – that my soul had connected to yours through the data streams of the internet.

You filled me with awe, your writing was, and still is truly magnificent. I remember the first thing I commented, “You’re as cool as penguins”. I went back to my WordPress dashboard, there was a notification you had commented on my blog at the same time I was writing on yours.

It’s so funny that a seemingly silly comment about you being as cool as penguins, could lead to such a beautiful meaningful life event – meeting my best friend. You changed my life, in fact, you continue to change my life, you’re in everything that I do.

I don’t know if you realise how much you helped me, how much you shared your undying strength with me. How much you were a lifebuoy to me, you kept me afloat during the roughest seas. I don’t know if you realise how much I loved you, or how much your love meant to me. I had planned to tell you — on your wedding day. That would’ve been the perfect moment. But life doesn’t always give us the time we think we have.

I know you never wanted pity, or sadness so I thought that your wedding day would be the perfect time to tell you how much I loved you too. I imagined standing to give a speech, seeing you in your wedding dress, watching you smile, so happy.

And then I’d proclaim my love for you to the crowd — a tear falling down my face, not for sadness, but for love, happiness, and hope. It would be so you, not a goodbye, but hopeful love. These are things that are now left unsaid, but that I really hope you knew.

I still do our, “Battle of the Christmas Sandwiches” competition every year. It’s funny to even be flooded with memories of you in the Marks and Spencer fridge aisle, but I know you’d LOVE that, given our many conversations about how great the food in Marks and Spencer is. By the way, you were right, the chicken yorkshire pudding is the best one. I don’t know what I was thinking, telling you it was beef.

I still buy you special gifts, they’re all over my house along with the trinkets you gave me. Whenever I see these little reminders of you in shops I can’t tell you how much I am filled with love and want to give them to you. I started buying them for myself to remember the way we gave each other little pebbles of comfort.

I never knew grieving you would mean I’d adopt quite so many plushie penguins either. I have quite a few penguins now, and have two of each size, it feels like one is yours and one is mine – us in the Universe of Jellycats. I always have one in my bag whenever I go anywhere, it’s symbolic of how you are always with me.

Your blog still gives me comfort now, I don’t just get to visit your grave, I get to visit your home. At the beginning, I worried that I would forget the little things that make you, you, but how can I forget, your blog is everything that makes you, who you are.

You know, I feel so lost without you. The world got darker when you left and I no longer even recognise myself. Your love changed me, and now I’m left staring at the void you left in the mirror. I know you’re still with me, but in the same way meeting you changed me, losing you changed me too.

I’ve been too afraid to confront who I am without you. I hid instead. I bet you knew I’d do that. I know you wouldn’t want me to hide, but at the same time you’re the one person who would totally and completely understand. You would have sent me periodic messages to check I was okay, you would have said, “Take your time, I’ll be here when you’re ready, like you never even left”.

My son misses you too. You’d be so excited to know, he is now studying Journalism at University. You would have absolutely loved that, given your absolute love of books and writing. You’re so similar, you and my son. He’s become even more like you, since you left. You both have that calmness and awe inspiring way of communicating, despite the giant massive feelings behind your justice driven words.

We celebrated you today, we took a walk along the river to town. The penguins that accompanied us watched the river flow and the tree branches sway in the icy wind. You always loved nature. We sat thinking about you in Starbucks, I shared my coffee with my penguins, like I wish I could have shared a coffee with you.

Afterwards, I went to my favourite shop, New Pastures Home, to buy you a candle I could light tonight. I would have bought you so many things from this shop, you would have got really excited with me about its existence. I really MISS being so excited with you over the little things. Remember our long CAPS LOCK EXCITED conversations about new socks?

The ‘Moonlight Magic’ candle I was immediately drawn to has little moonstone and obsidian crystals in it, so when the candle burns out the little crystals remain with me forever – just like you. When I read the candle label it says, “Guidance and Illumination” on it, which is exactly what you gave me. You were a constant guiding light, and you still are.

I light this candle for you and our continued friendship — through the data streams of WordPress and through time to when you were still alive. This is not goodbye though, every post I write here, I am speaking with you. I don’t think I could ever say goodbye to you. I knew you never even wanted a sad goodbye. So, hello again, my friend. I’ve missed you so much.

I think I’m lost without you, a song for you WeeGee, just like you used to end all your blog posts with a song, I now do the same.