How is it that I’m having to write this? It all seems so unfair and unjust and I just can’t process the cruelty that has been inflicted upon us all.

You bounced into my life with such endless positivity, unbridled optimism, and the truest sense of joy: It felt as though nothing could ever bring you down.

You saw the truth in people, and were never afraid to express how you felt, but you always did so with a kindness that showed the valiant nature of your intentions.

The only thing that surpassed your positivity was your generosity. You always had a kind word, a cheerful observation, or an invitation for me to add to your (far too frequent) Amazon shops – whether it be rugby equipment or isotonic drinks.

I laugh now about how you talked without taking a breath for an hour, causing me to miss junctions and ultimately me having to ask you to shut up so that I could do a three point turn; but it was impossible to be annoyed with you, your cheerful disposition spread to all around you, and it was already being joked about before the engine had cooled down.

I remember your countless messages asking for advice on teaching, rugby equipment, the best alternative venues in Manchester, or even relationship advice (goodness knows why you asked me!)

In short, you possessed all the best qualities in humanity, and your future was bright, and whilst I’m utterly gutted I’ll never get to see you reach your fullest potential, I know I’ll move forward with a bit of your kindness, a lot of your optimism, and with a determination to live in your legacy.

“La muerte no existe, la gente solo muere cuando la olvidan” ¡Nunca te olvidaré!