20 Years of Anticipation
Prince changed my life, literally. I grew up in hell and he gave me peace through his life and his music.
I waited 20 years to get front row seats at a Prince concert and fatefully, that concert was his last. There I was at the Piano & A Microphone concert in Atlanta, 10:00 pm show, front row. He sang beautifully and at the end he emerged from behind the stage, made eye contact, and walked directly to me with both hands held out, smiling and extending them towards me. I couldn’t say a word—I just placed my hands in his and he squeezed tightly. His hands were so strong, soft…the same size and color as mine, like I’d always imagined. It seemed like the world stood still. He was BEAUTIFUL.
The best night of my life turned to horror when, seven days later, he died—on my birthday, April 21. I was heartbroken and could hardly breathe. It feels like I’ve lost a brother, whom I adored in the humblest and most respectful way.
My birthday will never be the same, but that’s okay. I have that moment from April 14, where he gave me back 20 years. The concert could have been anywhere, but it was in Atlanta; I could’ve sat anywhere, but I was there in the front row; he could have held anyone’s hands, but he held mine. I see God in this.
His words say it best: But if God one day struck me blind, his beauty I’d still see. Love is 2 weak 2 define just what he means to me.