I have lingered among every bit of Prince memories that I could access for the last two days. As a friend just mentioned to me, it might be veering toward wallowing. I accepted her words because I figured out earlier tonight that I’m not just grieving for Prince. I miss the person I was when he was part of the soundtrack of my days. No doubt I was happier, more carefree.
I don’t do “adulting” well at all. I will be 49 in a few weeks–everyone knows what comes after that. I miss the friendships that used to be so easy to develop and miss my ability to make friends and keep them. I miss feeling competent and that I had a work in the world that was set apart for me. I can’t find that feeling anymore, and it hurts. I don’t feel worthy of so much of what others accept as their due. I want that feeling of success, but I no longer know how to find it.
Who am I? I’m not sure I know anymore. I’ve left so many different pieces of me along the way and hidden others that I’m not sure what’s left. I miss the people who loved me. Most of them don’t anymore, and I miss that simple connection that let us see the real person.
I need people to see the real me. I need friends. I want to find myself again.