It’s always hard to lose somebody. It leaves a hole in you heart that never grows back.

It’s always hard to lose somebody. It leaves a hole in you heart that never grows back.

I remember it all: every word, every breath, every tick of the clock . . . everything that happened is with me forever. I can never forget it. But that dosen't mean I can live it again. You can't live what's gone, you can only remember it, and memories have no life. They're just pale reminders of a time that's gone - like faded photographs, or a dried-up daisy chain at the back of a drawer. They have no substance. They can't take you back. Nothing can take you back. Nothing can be the same as it was. Nothing is. All I can do is tell it.

Imagine: you've spent all day traipsing round London, lost in a maze of chaos, trying to find a hidden illusion; you've been living on hope, ignoring reality, fuelled only by feelings you don't understand. You've been looking for a dream, never truly believing you'd find it, but now – incredibly – you have. It's right there in front of you – just behind that off-white door. It's there ...

The only difference now, for what it's worth, is that I know that these things don't matter. I know that I don't have to know anything, and I know that I don't have to fell frightened of not knowing-I just have to be here

I'm still living it now, every day, living it out in my mind - following the ups and downs, walking the pathways, reliving the moments of our Moonlight World... It's a day that never dies.

Staring in the darkness, trying to sleep. My body was aching with tiredness. My limbs were numb. My sightless eyes were crazed with light/ I was dying of oblivion, but it wouldn't come. I didn't think I've ever sleep again.