I lost a best friend. On 15th September 2007. When I write it out it seems like so long ago, it feels like another life, I like to think that he still crosses my mind at some point every single day, but I'm not sure of that. However, I do know, that he crosses my mind in my most troubled of days, my saddest and happiest times. The days that you will look back and remember. The important days. My friend, Jordan David Thompson, lost his long battle with leukaemia age 15. He had survived once, it was in between the first and second battle that we became close friends. I believe that everything happens for a reason, and I know that I was lucky enough to have this guardian angel so that I would always have a standing point, when life seems difficult I would always have something, someone, to look at and aspire to be. To think 'what would Toma do?'
Losing a friend, so young and under such horrifying circumstances, is a very selfish thing I found. I wanted everyone to know that he was mine, that he was my friend, that this pain was mine, no one else's. Although, of course, it was so many others as well.
I cried for days. I walked around in a daze for weeks. Friendship was the only thing that got me through.
I remember, it was a friday night, my friend Rachel rang me, sobbing. Telling me Toma was getting worse, that they didn't think that he'd make it through the night. I was 15 at the time, just walked out of the house at 11pm. It was warm, the end of summer. I met Rach at the bottom of my street, she could barely stand. i didn't cry, the news hadn't hit, my head was all over. We all met up at the shops close by, sat on a field. Discussed everything. As it happened, it was said that if he made it through the night, he should be ok. He made it through the night, and the following day. We all went out to a gig that night, went our separate ways after an hour or so because we weren't actually old enough to get in. My friends dad picked us up while others went to the cinema. We were almost home, her phone went, she dropped it after about 20 seconds. Screamed so loud I remember actually reaching to open the door even though we were driving. We went to my friends, Andy. We had all split up about 2 hours before, yet suddenly we were all back together within the space of about 15 minutes. The night is a blur. He was gone. I cried for his mother, his father, but most of all his little sister. Because I could never image my life without my big brother. I could try and tell you about that night, but all I remember are the facts, everything else is muddled in the most painful of memories.
I can sit here now, 19 years old, and wonder why I have been given an extra 4 years on Jordan. Why do i get to live? Grow up? But to be honest, other than those 4 years, I have nothing on Jordan. He is my inspiration, my comic relief, my angel. I know that there is a heaven because there is no other place that he could possibly be. I can see his face so clear, so painfully clear. I smile thinking of it, no sadness at all when I see him this clear. I could say that I know Jordan would have been great if he was given the days, but he was already great. He was everything I long to be, positive, funny, caring, so full of life.
So, today, on his would-be nineteenth birthday, I spare a million thoughts for my friend, for our memories together, for the next nineteen years that I will try to match his courage and his strength, and try to be half the human being that he was. I love you, Toma. Thank you for letting me know you, and fall head over heels for you just like everybody else you ever met did. I miss you every single day, happy birthday xxx
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