tempus fugit, amor manet – time flies, love stays. And yes, time flies. I have no idea how the last five days passed, because it actually feels like I am not only stuck in a dark, sad, devastated emotion, but also in time. Five days since we got to know you passed away. Five days that at the same time feel like only seconds and yet years have passed. I basically can’t remember many of the things I did in the past week. I don’t remember the drives home from work, I don’t remember whom I met, whom I talked to, what I ate. It’s all caught in a grey haze, no chance to get out anytime soon or to get a clear sight.
Love stays. And yes, of course it does. Where would it go? And this is maybe one of the main reasons for grief: There is no aim anymore, no goal, no finish line it can be directed at. All the time when I could be sure that you are around somewhere, I wanted to believe that if only I sent you enough love by thinking warmly of you, it would eventually reach you. But now there’s nothing there anymore. And I am holding on to my belief that your soul will always be with us, it definitely didn’t die with your body. And yet, I still have to find that aim, a new finish line. I was used to love for 28 years straight. It was a safe love, it couldn’t hurt me or anyone else who loved you. That’s why many fans are fans: they can love unconditionally without being hurt. That has been taken from me, and, as of now, I can make the promise that a love like that will never happen to me again, ever. The love for you also always meant I would not ever been left alone or behind. You were always there for me, like a steady and calming background noise on the quieter days and a loud and energizing stage noise during the tours.
Five days in a grey haze, 28 years in a mostly pink cloud, guiding me through my life. And when I chatted with others this week, a question bothered us. Did you know? Did you know you were on borrowed time? Did you know this cruel illness would once strike back and finally defeat you? Yes, yes, I well know that those are not our questions to ask. And it’s another one I don’t want to ever hear an answer to. I don’t want to know ANYTHING.
I guess you somehow did know you were on borrowed time, though. Maybe not until 2010 or 2011, but after that.. yes. Maybe that’s why you didn’t give up touring and insisted on doing it despite the fact that your body partly refused to do what it should. And thinking that you knew makes me admire you even more. I am a bit conflicted here, because on the other hand, it also makes me feel even sadder. I think most of us thought that you really, like really and for good had defeated this illness and its long term effects and were healthy, as healthy as someone who had this treatment could be. Maybe you, too, believed this for a while. It makes the outcome even more cruel. And it doesn’t give me comfort for a second that you survived longer than anyone else with that diagnosis.
What do they also say? Time flies when you’re having fun? I tell you: Time also flies when your body consists of nothing but grief. And at the same time it – time – just stands still. The world stops while life is going on.
All the best