Let’s Go Crazy

November22, 1984. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The Stadium. I was 16 years old. I was going to a concert, one I really wanted to see, but that wasn’t why I was so excited that night. I was going with Michelle, and that was the most exciting thing in the world to me. Two weeks before, I had told her that I had feelings for her “more than just a friend”. Miracle of miracles, she said she felt the same way too. That information simultaneously thrilled me and scared me to death. The feelings were all still processing, and I was very confused, but the concert was our first “real date” and I was so excited. The night was perfect, the concert was Prince Purple Rain Tour.

When David Bowie died earlier this year, I was surprised by how deeply I felt the loss. His music had been pivotal in my teenage years, and I felt the loss as a piece of my childhood dying. This, this is different. Prince and his music are a part of my identity, something that cannot die. That concert, from the opening acts to the last, and best encore, are as real and as dear to me as my favorite memory. That night marked the beginning of a 4 year relationship, and the discovery of who I really am. Prince is not just a performer to me, he is my friend. Tonight, I miss my friend. RIP Prince. And, thank you. Just thank you.

” 

Dearly beloved
We are gathered here today
To get through this thing called life
Electric word life
It means forever and that’s a mighty long time
But I’m here to tell you
There’s something else...”

 

Solitude

I am a loner by nature. I do a pretty good job of hiding that for the most part. I somehow learned early in life to become the person everyone wanted me to be. Most people who know me would use words like bubbly, party girl, even social to describe me, because that’s what I show them. The people who really know me, know that is all for show. I crave solitude, especially in times of turmoil or high emotion. I need to be alone with my thoughts, I need to meditate, to write, and process. That is how I cope, how I survive.

For the most part, I have surrounded myself with people who can respect that, if not completely understand it. The people closest to me can see when I need to disappear for a little while and step back. They tell me they are there for me when I need them, they love me, and then, they leave me to process. That is priceless to me.

A few of my friends, however, just don’t get it. They process their emotions by talking, and therefore, that is what I should do no matter what. I have a big problem with anyone telling me that my way of handling my most personal, private feelings is wrong, but I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. This leads to a lot of guilt on my part, and seriously, I am about filled as far as I can with guilt.

I don’t know how to explain the need for solitude, or even what I get from it. I am so thankful for the people in my life who wish me well, know and trust I won’t be gone for long, and are always there to welcome me back.