Tough to walk away last night. People were milling about and it was bittersweet. Just as I was getting to know them all - Grace, Peter, John, the others. I stood there, longing to be smack-dab in the middle of them, it - the chatter, the drinks, the smoke, the laughter. I wanted to grab it all, wrap myself up so tight in the memories of my new friends...then just stay there, warm and remembering.
I said goodbye to everyone a dozen times in the hopes someone had one wish left to bestow upon me. This was not to be. Accepted, reluctantly. My wishes were used for two weeks of fucking awesome! Guess being greedy just wouldn't be right...
There was no backstage room; the guys all stayed on their buses or on the side street. I had wanted to talk with Chris again, couldn't find him. He's a slick guy, disappearing just as you notice he's around. A car was waiting to take him away. Fans were waiting to take him away, too. I just stood there, staring. Why in the world am I so intimidated and scared? Well, other than the fact that he is Chris effing Difford. It took me a few minutes to work up the nerve. I popped my head in the driver's side door - "Chris, hope you feel better. Thank you so very much for the past two weeks. It was wonderful and fun and true joy and everything." Mind you, I'm saying this like running a sprint, words tumbling out before I could think. He smiled and said some very nice things. I closed the car door, walked away all warm and happy, smiling and bummed that it took me until the end to talk with him. Oh well...
Memories of conversations had and overheard roll around in my head making it difficult to write this...I'm actually tearing up, so emotional. (Crybaby!) I will sit with these memories. I will let them trip and fall, spin and stumble around up there...then smile as they spill out to keep me company on my drive home. Eight hours is a long time.
"Do it now you know there's never a next time..."
I said goodbye to everyone a dozen times in the hopes someone had one wish left to bestow upon me. This was not to be. Accepted, reluctantly. My wishes were used for two weeks of fucking awesome! Guess being greedy just wouldn't be right...
There was no backstage room; the guys all stayed on their buses or on the side street. I had wanted to talk with Chris again, couldn't find him. He's a slick guy, disappearing just as you notice he's around. A car was waiting to take him away. Fans were waiting to take him away, too. I just stood there, staring. Why in the world am I so intimidated and scared? Well, other than the fact that he is Chris effing Difford. It took me a few minutes to work up the nerve. I popped my head in the driver's side door - "Chris, hope you feel better. Thank you so very much for the past two weeks. It was wonderful and fun and true joy and everything." Mind you, I'm saying this like running a sprint, words tumbling out before I could think. He smiled and said some very nice things. I closed the car door, walked away all warm and happy, smiling and bummed that it took me until the end to talk with him. Oh well...
Memories of conversations had and overheard roll around in my head making it difficult to write this...I'm actually tearing up, so emotional. (Crybaby!) I will sit with these memories. I will let them trip and fall, spin and stumble around up there...then smile as they spill out to keep me company on my drive home. Eight hours is a long time.
"Do it now you know there's never a next time..."
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