Crowds: A Journal Entry 

To those who listen:

This quote–it really gets me, like in all my sore places. Like each word drives another blade into my heart. Because I completely understand looking for someone who will never be there.

I sat there, reading those lines again and again, and fat tears rolled down my face, those involuntary kinds where the salt is so much stronger because the pain is much more vivid than it usually is. And I remembered sitting next to my best friend and watching my favorite band perform, hearing their chords melt into my skin and sink into my bones. I remembered opening my eyes and expecting to see Johnny. Here, on the far side of America, I looked around for a face that would never be there. I searched for the impossibility. 

And I do the same in every crowd I’m in. I search for him knowing he’s not there. And I didn’t realize it until I read these lines. 

Someone asked me the other day if I’d go if Johnny said to come. I said yes without hesitation and to the surprise of the questioner. She was physically startled by my response. What does that mean? That I search for him, that I’d drop all to see his face just one more time, to feel his hands, to hear his voice just once more? 

What the fuck am I doing?




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