The words from the screenplay, described my feelings best .I felt that someone was pulling my guts out,hand over hand,a yard at time.I then felt alternately silly and distraught.Who was I to grieve so,over someone I personally had never known.Plenty of celebrities have died in my lifetime,Elvis,lenon,Hutchence,Paula yates and of course princess Diana.Yet although sad at the loss of life taken too soon,that was it really it.
I became like a woman possesed,reading and watching everything I could,including some real trash. I became the sort of person I used to, if not despise at least ridicule.
BBM so affected me,I came to the conclusion that it had become personal.
I hated myself for scouring the internet for pictures,when I knew he so despised that side of his life,his lack of privacy.I bored people to teras wanting to talk about it all the time.I even wondered if my sleeping tablets would have worked better than his.Given him some much needed rest and maybe saved him.
I cannot begin to describe my bizarre thought patterns.But mostlly I sobbed,almot continually.I did not even know if it was Heath or Ennis I was grieving for.
I cried for his daughter who he seemed to so adore ,and who would never know her father.
I then became angry as rumours became scattered around like confetti.I became angry at myself for wanting to believe only the good bits not the bad.
I didn't want him to have been so disturbed that it was suicide,yet eaqually I did not want it to be a tragic,perhaps preventable accident.In fact I just did not want it to be true.
Finally I wanted somebody to blame,anyone really.
If I am honest I was almost ashamed and embarased by my reacions.I had scoffed at the mass hysteria when Diana died,and here was I reacting in the self same fashion.
The only conclusion I can come to is that via BBM his acting provoked so many emotions I was grieving not just for him and what might have been,but also for myself.I longed to have had he chance to say.have you any idea how many souls you have reached.But then I guess that would have just embarassed him,he always came across as so self effacing.
In the end I believe that's what true artists do,touch something so deep in your core,that their death touches that same core,it becomes personal.
O.K so that.s enough of my rambling.
