I have never thought about Prince dying. Like most fans we marvelled at how youthful he was, full of energy and always ready to play another concert. There's no doubt we all thought (and hoped) he would outlive us all.

How can someone with so much youthfulness and such power on stage no longer be here? Someone who could light up a room just by appearing centre stage and reduce people to tears with a single note.

It's impossible to comprehend. It feels like losing a life-long friend.

Like thousands of others across the world, Prince's music has formed the soundtrack to my life ever since I can remember.

Through growing up, moving away from home, break-ups, nights out, nights in, train journeys, missed planes, celebrations, heartbreak, and even just doing the washing up, Prince and his music has been there to accompany it.

Ever since I heard that high-pitched scream at the beginning of Gett Off when I was 11-years-old I was hooked (much to the horror of my parents when they heard the lyrics. They literally have no idea how tame that song is in comparison to others).

Although I always regret not being old enough to have enjoyed Prince's 80s heyday first-time round, nothing can compare to stumbling across such an impressive back-catalogue. Imagine discovering Purple Rain, 1999, Dirty Mind and Sign O'The Times in one day? Then Controversy, Lovesexy and Parade a week later? It blew my mind.

WATCH: Huddersfield Town teenager score an amazing 'goal of the season'

WATCH: 'Targeted operation sees 25-year-old man arrested in possession of weapon

From then on all my pocket money was spent on buying more and more singles and albums, writing to various fanzines and music collectors to get hold of memorabilia, covering my bedroom walls in posters and driving my parents insane, once dragging them to London to go to Prince's short-lived shop in Camden Lock to buy a single candle, and trying to find out everything and anything about the mysterious star.

As friends camped outside the various houses of Take That members, coming into school brandishing photos and autographs, I spent my time rewatching Purple Rain about a thousand times, annoying neighbours by blasting out his songs and writing to his recording studios in Minneapolis begging him to come and perform on my street (he never did reply).

Prince Rogers Nelson, known by his mononym Prince, who has died at the age of 57 at his Paisley Park compound in Minnesota

But it was when I finally got to see him in concert at the Manchester G-Mex in 1995 that I finally understood just how different Prince was to anything and everything that had come before. And how he truly was in a league of his own.

Each and every concert he has done has been different. From the record-breaking 21 nights in London, The One Night Alone tour, Hop Farm, countless secret gigs, the infamous aftershow parties, and THAT Saturday night show at the Manchester Academy, seeing him perform live was like an out-of-body experience. And totally addictive.

I'll never forget spotting a man in a Prince t-shirt after a concert at the Apollo in 2002 and convincing myself he knew the way to a secret aftershow. Cue following him through the streets, hiding behind lampposts and getting more and more giddy that we were on to something. Until he finally turned into a driveway and went into his house. (Apologies to whoever that was).

After kissing his fingers, a fan touched Prince's star on the wall of First Ave

But it was those incredible Hit and Run shows of 2014 which truly stand out for me, not only because they were some of the greatest concerts I have ever seen, but because of the amazing people and friends I met along the way - standing in queues in the freezing cold for hours on end day after day really does bring people together.

The excitement of those few weeks will never ever again be replicated.

Never knowing where he was going to turn up next, not knowing whether you'd get in or what he would play was almost unbearable.

But that was always the beauty of Prince. He was never predictable. Never boring. Never anything less than outstanding.

To know we'll never see him perform live again is something that's impossible to put into words.

To write about him in the past tense seems surreal.

The only consolation is that we were lucky. Lucky to have lived at the same time as one of the greatest musicians and performers to ever have graced a stage. Lucky to have seen him play live, and lucky that we have thousands of songs to remember him by.

There are not many artists that can say that, and because of that his musical legacy will live on forever.