David, I’ve been sat here trying to write a beautifully worded tribute in your memory, but the truth is, there are no words on earth that will do you justice.
We were once closer than most people knew, but I know my words will resonate with all who knew you—and that was the unique thing about you David, the universality of your character; you touched the hearts of so many different people. I can honestly say without doubt that the time I knew you was my happiest. Amongst all your brilliantly lovable qualities—your sincerity, kindness, and your sometimes crude but faultless humour—your most appealing was your heart of gold. You were the most genuine and non-judgemental person I ever had the pleasure of knowing. In the midst of a very turbulent period for you last year, you still made time for other people. You sent me a fennec fox plushy after I once made a passing comment on how much I adored the creatures. It was a very touching gesture, especially considering the circumstances. I will cling to that fox until the end of my days. The tinychatters were so blessed to have you. You were central to that community and without you, I’m sure it will never be the same again.
I will never forget your penchant for making others laugh with your hilarious one-liners and great comedic timing, or your clever way with words, your thoughtfulness, your gorgeous face or that time you told me, quite early on in our friendship, that if you had stayed out any longer in the sun, you’d start looking like one of my people. Most memorably, I will never forget the time you convinced me you had a micropenis and I had to console you for an hour before you told me you were joking. Haha.
Gabriel, your cat, who I’m sure as much as he perfected his cold shoulder routine with you, will sense his loss, too. I know you loved him a lot.
I know it’s a cliché, but I’ll miss the little things, David. The times you gave me a call at lunch time when I was at work to keep me company, the endless episodes of Shameless we watched together and not to mention your horrific butchering of the Manchester accent as I’m sure Rich will attest to, the times you insisted I watched you play Rust when half the time I had absolutely no idea what was going on and the stories you told of your niece Libby who you loved so much. She will grow up with you in her heart and she'll be a better person for it, David.
When I woke up this morning and felt the crushing realisation of your passing all over again, I knew that the world will be an emptier place without you in it. No matter how many times I told you I could not read one of Rumi’s poems to you in Arabic, you persisted. Well, Rumi once said that anything we lose comes around in another form. So David, be it a dream or a shadow, just grace us with your presence once more.
I love you.