Fly Away (Michael Jackson)

six

The next day rolled around and I was more excited than ever for this week long trip in California. California. I kept saying in my head. It's always been this luxurious place where all the stars live, and enjoy themselves. Not some ordinary person like myself. I wouldn't fit in. I laughed thinking about it. But it's Michael, the light of the world; it couldn't be bad at all if he likes it. After all, he has always had great taste in everything.

Sometimes I wonder about how this world would have been if he never left home. If he never shared his talent with the world. Where would we be now? Would we still be friends? I think the main reason we still feel connected because we're trying to repair ties from when we were kids - but the truth is we're not the same.

Michael's different; but at the same time he isn't. He's different in that we have almost nothing to talk about. Everything he knows is in his career, and I can't even read sheet music or stay on rhythm for the life of me. We talk about what we've been up to, but nothing's really a surprise for me; and I'm just not as interesting. It's almost awkward how much we don't talk. He tries to talk about our old memories, but after a while, reminiscing on past memories gets boring and we both feel that tension when the other stops talking. When none of us have anything else to do, we watch a movie and that usually takes up our time while he's here.

That's why I think it would be best for me to go to California and make new memories and actually grow closer and have a real friendship. What we have isn't as strong as we're both telling ourselves - it's an excuse for a childhood friendship that we want to rekindle so badly. As I think about all the facts that coincide with the situation, it really starts to bottle up inside and I end up sulking in my bedroom, like never before. Which is ridiculous, because I should be the happiest person on earth as of now. Michael's back, he's spending time with me, we're talking face-to-face - everything I've ever asked for, for years. But when he goes back to his hotel and I'm alone, every frustrated and flustered feeling inside of me comes out and it always leads to me laying on my bed, staring at the ceiling as if something would change.

This trip is going to be a milestone. It's going to introduce me to how Michael lives, and that way I'll understand everything he's talking about, on a first hand perspective. It had better be worth it, because after a short week that I know will zoom by, I have to make a life alerting decision. To live with Michael, or figure things out on my own, which could lead to the ultimate fate of our friendship.