I remember reading the newspaper headline about River Phoenix. I never once thought, “This took too long for me to find out.” As the idols of my youth die and friends post about broken bones and their parents’ dying, I realize I am old, old enough to be able to anticipate that people I have known or loved will be dying. George Michael, Prince, Michael Jackson, none of them perfect, but oh, the spaces they held in my life—the guy who blasted Father Figure on a first date with me, “This makes me think of the girl who is pregnant with my kid” or Michael Jackson for just being so different and not making me feel like a misfit for not looking like a girl…
Categories: Love