No Regrets

What a moving tribute , beautifully written and heartfelt.

The Buxton Blog

Jules Bianchi c/o James Moy Photography Jules Bianchi
c/o James Moy Photography

I’ve been staring at my computer screen for three hours now. The clock ticks relentlessly, the marking of time with the movement of hands clunking louder and heavier and seemingly slower every second. The electrical whirr of the fridge freezer behind me, a low monotonous mechanical dirge. The creaks of the walls. The twisting of pipes as the boiler flickers on and the flame ignites. A roar in the corner. And all the while, the endless swirling of white noise in your mind, and the deep rhythmic thud of your heartbeat.

Silence isn’t really silent at all.

Focus blurs and vision glistens. The warm emotional relief as tears flow, punctuating the numbness if only for a moment.

I have tried, and failed, to put into words what and who Jules Bianchi was. While part of me made peace with this eventuality some time ago…

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