It's been 2 years and 5 days since I heard his voice.

2 years ago Luke died. It's been 2 years and 5 days since I heard his voice, sent him a stupid message or received a cutting insult via facebook.

We spent almost every single day together for the best part of 18 years. He was more than family, more than friends. He was and is a part of who I am. He knew my secrets, my nature, my anger and frustrations. He knew my sociopathic love of lying and of exaggerating. He knew me and he accepted me. And I him.

I want to say lovely meaningful things. I want to say everything I feel and everything we shared. I want to talk about growing up together and how we were supposed to be growing older together. But every time I try it feels like losing him again. And the truth is I'm not even sure I've accepted it yet. I still talk to him. I still talk about him like he's here. I still feel like he is.

So on days like today when I'm awkwardly trying not to cry at my desk I go through our messages to cheer myself up. It's simultaneously awkward, depressing and truly frightening that nothing has changed and yet it is so comforting to me that I can read them and feel like he's still laughing at me now. From Trump and Brexit to alcoholism and our extensive combined history of quitting all forms of employment...these messages and his laughter stand the test of time.

If anyone has been affected by suicide or mental health issues, please take a look at the website his parents set up to honour and celebrate his life.

And while you're there sign the petition and sign the organ donor register!

Alexandra Ewart