You know when your baby is a bad sleeper and you only realise you'd actually had some sleep when your nights are broken? That's how I feel about grief.
For quite a while I had muddled along with this huge ache in my heart and this gaping hole in my life when all of a sudden a huge weight like a wrecking ball hit me again, cracking open my protective shell and the tears flowed and I felt like I was gasping for breath. All I could do was stop what I was doing, sit down and let the tears roll down my cheeks. Big fat tears, warm yet not welcome, bursting forth and at the time I didn't think they would stop. But they have and now I look like I've been crying all night.
2016 has been a bad year, not long to go now, but my bad year started on 22 November and from where I am now it's nearly a year down the line and the grief is still raw. On the day I plucked up courage to phone Cruse I had a cup of tea with Perfect Fiona. I told her I feel guilty for missing my best friend who isn't here any more when I have my great friends who are. She said there's no reason to feel guilty, we all miss her but yours was a very unique and special friendship.
And that's it. I never realised just how amazing our friendship was and I can't thank her for that, and this huge wrecking ball that's nudged all my emotions whilst unwelcome has only served to remind me that whilst my best friend is no longer here the memories may fade but will never disappear.
And in time I will be able to say "Clare Chauffepied, sadly she died and took a part of me with her but I'm still here and we had an amazing friendship, more coffee please" but it will take time.