An Open Thank You Letter To Mr D. Ritchie

Dearest Donald,

Before I begin, I just want to say, just in case I burst into tears whilst typing this and the keyboard shorts out and electrocutes me, that you are a peerless individual, a paragon of animals (sorry, I'm in Shakespeare mode - refer to upcoming post).

That would pretty much sum it up. But let me elaborate a touch:

You once wrote to me, I think it was in an email to congratulate me on getting the job in Cheltenham:

I'm not good at all of this (especially after three glasses of Mad Fish Premium Red), but you are truly an inspiring person to me; someone who makes me think that, in all honesty, I could be better than I am, by simply being more like you.

(Just thought I'd slip that in...)

But seriously, you bewildered me. I remember thinking that you shouldn't be able to say that because that is how I feel about you. And what you have done for me, who you have been for me, over the last ten years, and especially in the last two weeks only makes me realise that I wouldn't be who I am today if I hadn't known you.

In the words of Melvin Udall, you make me want to be a better person. (You certainly make me want to read more!)

You have pulled me out of some truly black situations. It is not that you have been there for me when nobody else was, it is that you have always been the one to recognise I need someone to be there for me, usually before I recognise it myself.

If anything has been reinforced in the last fortnight, it is that I have an immensely supportive and tightly woven network of friends, securely bonded by caring and warmth, and I know that not a single one of them will raise a pinky of complaint when I say to you that you are the essence of friendship, distilled, concentrated and given human form. You're Friendship's bitch!

There is no way I can repay you for being who you are, except, I suppose by being who I am. For what you have done for me, I will try my little heart out to make sure that what I have been through doesn't fuck me over. When the world caves in around me (and it does sometimes) I will fight to reconstruct it, to make it better, because all you have done for me will not come to nothing.

Besides, if I end up a dribbling mess you probably wouldn't hang out with me anymore.

So, my friend, from the bottom of my heart I thank you. And I know that those thanks are echoed from hundreds of mouths around the globe. Thank you for being Donald.

x