This next piece has to come last in the book, for two reasons.
Firstly, because it’s the piece that, by far, received the biggest response I’ve ever had—partly because it is, obviously, a profound and powerful piece of writing, but mainly, I suspect, because it was re-Tweeted by Adele, who has twenty-three million followers. The results of being re-Tweeted by someone iconic with twenty-three million followers are interesting. Many of the responses I got were greatly moving—“Your piece has left me in tears.” “Thank you for saying to my teenage daughter what I could not say myself.”
But most of them were along the lines of: “@AdeleOfficial @caitlinmoran—Adele we love you in BRAZIL! Come play for your fans IN BRAZIL! I cry for you! I sing your song very much! BRAZIL LOVE YOU!” “@caitlinmoran PLEASE tell @AdeleOfficial I DIE FOR HER! It would make my LIFE!”
I have enjoyed wielding this supposed power. “No—Adele will NOT come and play in Brazil—as she says you don’t actually love her ENOUGH,” I will Tweet back, every so often, when bored. Or, “Adele is looking at your profile picture—and thinks you would look BETTER in a scoop-necked top. The V-neck isn’t doing it for you. ADELE HAS SPOKEN. ATTEND THE WORDS OF ADELE!”
And the second reason why this piece had to be last is very simple: It’s a posthumous letter. It is written from beyond the grave. It is the last thing I will ever say. Even with my natural optimism about my immortality, I know that, once you’re dead, there’s nothing more to say.