numb

Today I found out that the man who was murdered in Aylesbury this week is a long-term friend of mine. One of the first people we met when we moved here 30 years ago, someone who was around to help me when some real bad stuff was going on in my life; someone who always had time to listen to me, despite his terrible reputation for violence (my "favourite psychopath"); someone who managed to stay on the best of terms with both me and Paul's dad when we split up; someone who was a joy to talk to because we could, and did, discuss some very deep philosophical ideas as well as some of the terrible things that had happened to him, and in his life; someone I used to spend a lot of time with; someone who offered to give me money when I was flat broke; someone with a very strong sense of morality and ethics although the rules were his own and not necessarily those of society;

I feel bereft. I've pretty much learned to cope with most of my close friends having died in their 30's and 40's but I didn't expect any of them to be murdered. He was visibly disintegrating with various health issues but still 'him', the last time I saw him; worse the last time my son saw him; but he didn't deserve to have it end like that.