A Eulogy of Sorts

by Lottie Allen

We have been friends longer than I can remember.

When we were little, we would sit in her room playing with Harry Potter figurines - I always used to have a ridiculous American accent that no one could quite work out and she would always laugh at me. Or we would pretend to be spies in the cul de sac… Was the lady going into the flats down the road really carrying shopping? And what if the train behind the hedge was carrying a stowaway? We even had a logbook with everyone’s suspicious movements. In the case that it was raining and we had become bored of the figurines, we would act out our own scenarios: the stairs led to a bubbling volcano, her room was the darkest forest, the landing was the porch of a house we were sneaking into… You name it, we had done it. We went to the city to hide from villains, we had fought pirates on the east coast and solved the most incredible mysteries - all from her room, in our vivid imaginations.

As we got a little older, she stopped wanting to be a spy and wanted to be a writer or an artist. This was around the time I wanted to be a vet, I think. She loved to paint and drew little sketches of animals or characters she had created. She wrote stories about the characters she drew and made them solve the darkest of mysteries - like we had, all those years ago. We started making these goofy sketches that we would film - we even had a YouTube channel at one point.  We planned to move to London: buy an apartment, a cat, a dog and thrive in the busy life of the city! We had bizarre nicknames: hers was Jenny, mine was Boris and our friend was Safari. We were the three musketeers. We would stay up until the early hours of the morning chatting and doing all sorts: truth or dare, the photo booth challenge, would you rather or doing each other’s make up blindfolded!

Sometime after this, I wanted to become a writer and she wanted to be an actress - her favourite film was Jurassic World and she used to tell me all about the sequel - complaining about the fact that every article seemed to be about high heels no longer being a feature! I had not seen any of the films and was desperately in need of being brought up to speed.

We started seeing each other less as we grew up but we still used to text one another often. When we next saw each other I was worried it would be awkward as we had not seen each other for a while but the minute we got together it felt as though we hadn’t been apart.  We laughed so much - I don’t remember ever having laughed that much with anyone else as we did goofy Disney reenactments and caught up on the last few months. I remember her messaging me excitedly about the school play she was auditioning for - Oliver - and telling me she was worried because she couldn’t sing but had a solo. I told her it didn’t matter, that she would be fantastic anyway, and wished her luck. She was there when I was being bullied in school and I was there when she acquired this complete oddball stalker.

Months went by and we both moved to different schools. Suddenly, it had been over a year since we had actually seen each other. I heard she was struggling and messaged her; we arranged to meet up. It was Sunday when I saw her. We went to a sweet coffee shop, sat in the far corner and talked for an hour or so about everything and nothing. It had been a tough few months for her; we didn’t really broach the subject, but we had a sort of mutual understanding. We made grand plans for the summer - she had six months until she went back to school and we decided to do something productive in that time: we would redecorate her room, we were going to write a script that she would act in and make a bucket list of all the things we wanted to do in that time. We made resolutions: hers were to talk to more people and procrastinate less, mine were to eat healthier and sleep more. I had three months until exams after which I was entirely free and we had the whole of summer. I didn’t think it mattered that I only went to see her for an hour because we had planned to meet up the next weekend. But it wasn’t to be.

Our friendship was relaxed; we were at ease with one another and I don’t remember a time when we ever argued. We just worked together and I always thought of us as equals. Although, we were different as people - she liked video games and I didn’t, she was a cat person and I was a dog person, we liked different films and little things like that. We were similar in so many ways. She has always been this quiet constant in my life; familiar and dear. She was the kindest, sweetest, most caring soul I ever knew. Talented and wise far beyond her years. I will remember her for who she was: my dearest friend and I will miss her so very much.

Mental health affects everyone in different ways. You are not alone. Talk to someone you trust.  Sharing a problem is often the first step to recovery.