Secret admiration

The world feels different without Michael Jackson. I get up on a morning and, as soon as my thoughts turn to him, the world just...feels different. I'd never met him; never talked to him or wrote to him or even bought his record, tape, CD or DVD. Yet, he was just always there, with me listening and watching and admiring his brilliance, talent and commitment from afar.

I started taking notice as I ventured into my teens and, well, he was just always there, giving the best of himself when he performed. It seemed to make him happy when he made his listeners happy. There was an unmistakable cord of desire to connect with them. With us. He wove something strong and satisfying through music and dance and in every performance, he wrapped millions in this something. And each time was the best of times.

And, when that pure, unselfish offering of oneself is no longer, a hole forms where that substance once was. The world really feels different without him.

Even though there were no plans to meet up with him, he was somewhere on the planet - within reach. Now, no longer. And that is the stark reality that's still a tad too real.

It saddens me that he is no longer here. Still, I'm thankful to God for the time that He allowed him to spend here. Nobody's perfect; he wasn't. I could not venture into that realm. But, he gave the best of himself.

The outpouring of warm, tender and other sentiments continues. I'm sure he knew that he was loved by those who loved him.

In the end, I want it to be said, truthfully, that I gave the best of myself.

Oh, it might've come down to "Will you be there?"

RIP, MJ.


Claudia
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