Post #2460821

Last Wednesday, the 29th April 2026, I received one of the worst phone calls of my life. At around 6pm, while riding home on her motorbike, my friend Ruby South got into an accident and tragically lost her life. The last message she sent to her partners before setting off toward home was "Shark incoming." Ruby was a Shark Girl...and a Cat Girl...she was a Cark, or Sharkitty, depending on when you asked. I first started talking to Ruby back in the early months of 2023, though we'd interacted with each other here and there before then, a mutual friend of ours was arranging a joint trip to Cardiff Pride that year, and so we got stuck in to a group chat to arrange things and get to know everyone. Before 2023 I'd never really had any best friends. I've never been great at making and then keeping friends, let alone having friends good enough to actually get me, and care about me, and want to spend time with me. Ruby, her at the time girlfriend Chloe, our friend Kela, and a mutual friend between us all Jess, quickly became my four first ever best friends. All of our lives played out differently than expected over the next 4 years, but we all stayed in touch and they have all stayed my best friends. Ruby always checked in on me, wanted to help me out, knew about my health issues and was making an active effort to come over to see me with her two new partners (pictured), and we had started to make so many plans for her to help me get out of the house and be more social this year. One of her other partners is disabled in very similar ways to myself, so she got it, she understood it, she wanted to make sure I didn't stay isolated or forgotten in my house. She gave the best hugs, and was always around to talk and care more about other people in her life than her own issues. She was so fucking smart, and the biggest ditz you'd ever meet. The first time I physically met her in June of 2023, she looked like the biggest, happiest, most stereotypical dyke you could think of. Red flannel shirt, black t-shirt with some kind of graphic design on it, skinny jeans, buckles and all sorts dangling from the belt loops and pockets, tattoos and wristbands, and the biggest shit-eating grin on her face. She was one of the kindest, most beautiful, and caring souls I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I have cried every day since finding out what happened. It hurts so fucking much, and I just want her back. She would have turned 30 this year, only a few days after my 40th. She was supposed to be in my life for decades to come. There is so much I didn't get to know about her, so much I didn't have the chance to say. So much we wanted to do together. It hurts so fucking much. I love her. I miss her.