I watched "10 Things I Hate About You" the other night. Hadn't seen it in a long, long time. I couldn't bring myself to watch it, or "The Patriot," or "Casanova," or any of the other movies they all trotted out shortly after his death. I guess having seen TDK twice and lived through it both times, I figured I could handle it. And I could. Didn't shed a tear through the whole thing. I just enjoyed him and his effortless charm.
Now I'm kind of going through this renewal of the Denial stage. Through film, he's still very much alive. And since I never had the privilege to meet him, let alone know him, he's as real and here and now to me as he ever was. I know it's probably "wrong" and "not healthy," but I prefer to think of him as being immortal in this way.
Like the line in "Powder" goes, he didn't go somewhere when he died. He went everywhere.