We sat on my balcony 7 days ago and talked about the world.

We’d been doing that for about 6 years in total, on and off. We discussed why things were how they were and what everything was about. Work, play, friends, relatives, parties, food, travel. We didn’t really understand what we were saying. We couldn’t explain with enough clarity, the concepts we were trying to vocalise, but we understood each other, that was clear as glass.

I’ll always remember Sam, because ever since I met him 6 years ago, I felt as though he was my brother. I don’t say that flippantly, I don’t say it because of the situation we’re so unfortunately in, I made sure to tell that to Sam whenever I saw lucky enough to see him. I have many friends that I love dearly but I feel like Sam and I were 2 matching halves, lucky enough to have found each other. Sam gave me such a huge amount and for that I’m forever grateful. He taught me not to worry. He taught me a way of living that disregarded fretting over the smallest of things. In return I hope I gave him strength in some form, I hope I gave him something he didn’t already have.

He was an achiever. He was the one everyone looked up too and although we all openly told him, I’m not sure if he ever really realised how much his positivity and general attitude toward life, had an effect on every one of his friends. Those friends are today in mourning. The overwhelming; upset, confusion and disbelief, aren’t things that can be truly expressed via messages and condolences across Whatsapp or Facebook, but for now that’s all we can muster. This group of friends was brought together in one way or another by Sam. It’s been a group that has bonded and grown over the past few years and now, this strongest collection of boys realise they must be strong for one another and support Sam’s family so it can grow and live on in his absence.

Personally, I’m truly devastated, I’ve never felt a pain like this before. Currently my days are filled with a feel of total numbness, a feeling that is only replaced by waves of uncontrollable upset. My stomach hurts from the thought of never being able to see my best of friends ever again. My head can’t understand and my heart doesn’t want to understand. These feelings are something that I’m certain time will heal, but that same healing is something that will happen, in part, because of what Sam himself has taught me.

Sam would have pat me on the back, leaned in and told me that I’ve got to get on with it and help out those that need more support than I. So that’s what I’ll do, because that’s what Sam would have done for anybody else in this tragic situation. So to you, Little Sam, as I sit holding my breath to stop myself from sobbing, I love you*. You will live forever through my best efforts to teach others the things you taught me and I promise I will do my best to look after those you have loved and left behind.

Sam x

* despite being a Tottenham Supporter.

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