To turn a public grief in to a private emotion. That time you met Lou Reed in a bar, when you and your now-spouse danced to Rock With You on your first date. When my Dad was 14 he played his first ever gig and opened with Rebel Rebel.

I don't have a David Bowie story.

I remember my Dad playing me Young Americans in the car to school when I was little. I remember spending days upon days learning the bassline to Sound and Vision when I was 15. I remember listening Adam and Joe's Bowie impressions stuck in London traffic. I remember dancing to Modern Love, Let's Dance and Changes at almost every Camden clubnight I've ever been to.

But I don't have a David Bowie story. Instead he's been a constant prescence throughout my life. Five Years so deeply ingrained in me.

When Lou Reed died I grieved. I listened to The Velvet Underground & Nico on repeat for a few days. This grief is different. Today I'm grieving future Bowie. Blackstar is an equally beautiful and heartbreaking goodbye. Perfect in it's being, but a desperate hint of what was still to come. I was genuinely excited to hear more of Bowie's new work, and maybe even see him perform live again. I'll miss what he never had a chance to become more than anything.