Gary was one of my very best friends. He was a bit younger than me and a lot cooler. We met at work about 15 years ago and through a love of mainly oasis, skiving and pubs we became incredibly close. He loved football and because I loved chatting to him I pretended I did as well. But I didn’t. 

I introduced him to all my friends and he immediately became as much a part of our group as anyone. Everyone loved him. Everyone he ever met loved him. 

And then, in September, for reasons that I don’t suppose anyone will ever really understand including him, he took his own life after a very brief, very intense battle with mental illness. 

It’s never not a shock when something like that happens but when someone who talks so openly about the need to communicate, be open with how you’re feeling and is so aware and considerate of the struggles someone else may be facing, makes such a permanent decision themselves it really knocks you for six. 

I’m not sure if Gary talking to me would’ve made any difference but for whatever reason he chose not so we’ll never know. I would’ve loved to have had  a go at helping him. 

So thats my story I suppose. I loved him dearly and he’s gone and if I can make a tiny bit of difference to someone else who may be considering whether they should or shouldn’t talk about their situation by running round the Isle of Wight with a torch strapped to my head then that’s what I’ll do. 

Cheers