I posted a video of Evanescence covering “Purple Rain” over at Faceypages. Go watch.
It’s public, so you don’t have to be my friend. Unless I’ve blocked you. In which case, sucks to be you.
That cover/song is my everything.
It’s not that Prince was my all-time favorite artist. But he was a constant for the ’60s- and ’70s-born set. No party was complete without him. Every heartbreak could find solace in his songs. He was just THERE for all of it.
“I never wanted to be your weekend lover.
I only wanted to be some kind of friend.
Baby I could never steal you from another.
It’s such a shame our friendship had to end.”
I don’t even need to look up those lyrics. I’ve sung that song a million times to a half-dozen different people. In my mind, anyway.
I got to thinking about someone as I listened and recorded and tried not to bawl. Because, holy shit Amy Lee is A-MA-ZING.
Maybe it was the culmination of someones and my brain was putting together its own video reel as I listened and tried not to collapse from the hundred-degree heat and the thousand-degree fire inside my heart.
But it always seems like I find relationship-oriented people. Just not when it comes to me.
It’s OK. I’m less of a relationship type than any of them. Maybe they figured that out about me long before I did.
Doesn’t stop the occasional moment of “what if” from punching me in the face, though.
Luckily I’m only black-and-blue on the inside. And you’ll never know I’m missing you so much right now, I can’t even breathe.
And “you” is a surprising mix of three people I never, ever thought I’d think that about. Independently or all at once.
