A guy I knew once died

His name was Karl Bareham. Even seems weird to type that in the past tense.

We were not close, I knew him at college, we fooled around a time or two. He might have been the coolest person I knew and now he’s a vapour in the internet.

He had this round face, very cute, not handsome but cute. He looked like he wanted to please you but whilst he was working out how might wound you. Like a puppy. And his eyes that somehow managed to interrogate your whilst also portraying an unnerving sense of innocence. He always seemed lost to me, he didn’t quite fit in anywhere, I see now why I felt drawn to him. Where my lack of belonging led to battles, his made people want to follow him because he wouldn’t hitch himself to anyone’s ride. When you are a teenager is anything more attractive than someone who is cutting their own path.

He was, as someone commented on social media after his death, the most sarcastic person I ever met. My husband describes me as having an acerbic wit and yet Karl could make it seem like he cared about nothing, no one, no time, no anything and yet somehow you knew. He cared deeply. He would offer a word of comfort, or praise, or thanks, in the midst of a tirade of abuse so you’d almost lose it.

Our paths collided during my college years – me and my boyfriend at the time were like the hot couple, and by that I do not mean sexy, I mean hot headed and always fighting passionately in the street. Karl was in a band with my boyfriend. Karl was in a lot of bands. I believed at the time his arrogance meant everyone wanted him and that he was just creating smoke with no fire, but in truth his arrogance was founded on the fact that he was actually excellent and his focus was on being excellent. I feel now – some 20 years later that we had that in common. Karl would somehow do everything to the fullest and yet not seem to input at all, Federer like you know, sliding on glass through life and achieving so much and yet still not seeming to be invested. Whereas I would describe my path as more of a jungle run through life where I appear to be making everything as hard as possible. The grown up Karl I imagine would be able to cut through that sort of noise, because he was fundamentally linked to what he felt was important. Anything else was just that …anything else!

I can’t tell you if he made an impact on the world , because I don’t know. He left behind and incredible amount of excellent music which once I have recovered I will listen to and enjoy again. Silent Films A City That Sleeps is one of my favourite albums to listen too, the care with which it’s crafted and the fact you can slide through the whole album effortlessly speaks to me about Karl. I didn’t follow his career but it seems to have been successful and I will make an effort to listen to work he created and produced so that he does live on, in that way in my life.

He died scuba diving, covered in tattoos, in a foreign country on a band tour. Is that a way to go? Who can say? When I was young I wanted a rock and roll death, the older I get and as I’ve found love and motherhood a quiet slip away in my sleep seems more preferable. And yet I’ve lost something in losing Karl that finding out about his death over a year after it happened has made me realise. I’m not young anymore. I’m not old either. The girl Karl knew, I’m not sure what parts of her still exist within me and right now that seems like a shame because like Karl, she was awesome and cool. She had drive and ambition, wouldn’t put up with anything, was 100% ready for the world and knew the world was not ready for her. She didn’t spend 7 weeks deciding whether to get a £350 IKEA sofa, or talking about a shed. She was gonna take on the world.

I was going to take on the world. And now I’m happy with a herbal tea and a bowl of cereal on a Friday night. I can HEAR the words eagerly tripping out of Karl’s mouth…”You what?”. And that would be enough, his point would be made. How did I become her? I hope Karl didn’t, I hope that he carried on living his life the way he wanted. I hope he found love, of sorts, I mean his arrogance likely meant no-one would ever quite be good enough but I hope he found some of what love can offer. A partnership, some excitement, a sense of fear about losing something so precious.

I know he had an impact on me. I dreamt of him last night. I wanted to spend a night sitting on the beach with him, a peaceful night, to have enjoyed all the chaos and thrills of life but to send him off peacefully into the ever after.

I won’t miss him because I didn’t know him anymore, now when I think back to those hedonist teenage days, my first love there will be a twinge of sadness but also something bigger and better that Karl will have left me with; a call to fucking arms.....I'm not dead yet!

Bye Karl.

Vix.