(alternatively titled "Pour vous. Je veux que vous sachiez.")
i closed my eyes and let the kicks and snares soulfully influence my heartbeat. that familiar, vintage voice of hers pierced my sorrows, shattered my self-indignation, and became my closest experience to time travel ever. to quote a peer at the show, erykah badu's the shit ya'll.
exiting into the relentless florida summer, i felt really appreciative of the friends i had, of the times we spent together, and happy over the fact that i didn't drive to orlando. thanks again, john.
however, as i pondered on past and present, "she" kept popping into my head. during the concert, a goofy couple kept bumping into me from behind. they looked rather odd together for their height difference, but despite my silent opinions, he held her intently and they both smiled while mouthing introspective lyrics, grooving and looking toward the stage in unison. this girl behind me, donning curly hair, a flowing skirt, and a tanktop was exactly the image i didn't want to see, though it's an image that i haven't been able to let go of in 2 years. i constantly looked over my shoulder, partly because linda was making fun of me, but mostly to check on this coincidental manifestation of something i've secretly yearned since one despairing november.
"She would've really enjoyed this." or something similar whispered in my head all night.
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this is my 18th attempt to post since my last. i haven't been able to find the desire to talk. i hope "she" doesn't mind me leaning on her for help again.
regardless of whether you still visit here or not, i'd like to let you know about my transit. maybe you can teach me to write this time. (forever the packrat...)