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thanks to bettle middler for writing this great song that has inspired me to write this!



I can’t believe this. I can’t believe that I’m here. Sitting next to your bed. You look so different. Is this really you?
I remember the day I met you for the first time. Though more than three years have passed since then, it feels like it was only yesterday.
The Dead Letters Tour had finally been over, I was celebrating my new won freedom with my friends when it happened. I overdid it, drank far too much and were taken to hospital. When I woke up a day later I felt horrible. And it wasn’t only because of the worst hangover of my life. I felt completely burnt out, like all my energy, my spirits were gone. Two years of constant touring and working had left its marks. The doctors committed me to a clinic. They called it a nice place to recover and rethink my use of alcohol. Turned out to be a loony bin.
So there I was, hating that place, being forced to see a shrink and to attend group therapy with drug addicts and other nuts. I felt trapped, wanted to leave but the band and the management made me stay. Told me I had to be back in shape to record the new album. Said they only wanted what was best for me. Best? Ha, excuse me that I’m not laughing out loud! But I had no choice, I had to stay.

Then I met you. Kemi, the little girl with the black hair, tattoos and piercings, always wearing thick black eyeliner and red lipstick. I asked you for a cigarette, outside in the smoker’s corner. We hardly spoke but somehow I felt that there was this thing between us, that I could trust you. You were shivering and wrapping yourself tightly into your jacket. You looked so fragile, so vulnerable, I wanted to take you into my arms and warm you up.
But I didn’t.
As the days went by we slowly started to get to know each other. You told me your story, that you’ve had a troubled childhood, that you had left home at the age of fifteen. That you’ve been living on the street or in old house ruins. That you had taken any available drugs until one day you decided to change your life and come to this clinic.
I felt so stupid. What had I’ve been complaining about? Me, the rockstar with money, success and friends? Who just couldn’t have get enough of his rockstar lifestyle? My problems seemed to be so trivial, so embarrassingly easy to solve! But you never made me feel like this. You listened to me for hours, comforted me and never blamed me for anything. And sometimes we didn’t talk at all, just sat together, smoking silently. There was this strong bond between us. Like I was your big brother. Though you were just one year younger, I felt like I needed to protect you. Like I had to give you a big hug.
But I didn’t.
Three month later I’d been discharged from the clinic. They said I was back in my old shape and they were right, I felt great. But they didn’t know that this was only because of you. You had been the one who had helped me the most. I said good bye to you, we promised to stay in contact. You smiled at me sadly with your big light blue eyes framed by black eyeliner. They were filled with tears but you held them back. You didn’t want to make me feel bad. I waved at you a last time, then I turned around and went away. I felt like I was leaving a part of myself behind. I wanted to run back and embrace you tightly.
But I didn’t.

Time went by, the new album had been released, we were preparing the next tour. Though I hadn’t forgot about you, we hardly had any contact. We all know how these things happen, right? You’re just too busy and though you really wanna keep in touch, time just runs by and before you even realize what’s going on, your friendship is starting to crumble.
Then one day I got your email. You wrote you’d successfully finished your therapy and that you had left the clinic. Now you were looking for a job to set your life back straight. Finally I felt like I could really help you, like I could give something back to you. Our tour manager was looking for an assistant, so I offered you this job. And you accepted. You were so thankfully, so happy. You promised me to help me out when ever I needed anything.
And you did.
I don’t know how things changed. Or better, how I changed. I never did it on purpose but somehow I turned into an idiot. Not that I realized it back then but now that I’m thinking back, I do. I started to use you as my personal handyman, asked you to do this and that, treating you like the dogsbody. I was back to my old drinking habits. You never criticised me but you also didn’t support me. The only thing you didn’t do for me was getting me something to drink. But you looked after me when I was drunk, you cleaned after me when I had made a mess. But I never said thanks. I just treated you the same shitty way everyday. Only when I was feeling down I came crawling back to you. Whining and complaining about my oh so hard life. Looking for you to listen to me and give me comfort.
And you did.
When I was alone with you, I felt like I could be myself, that you accepted me the way I was. I felt safe when you were around. But it didn’t stop me to use you. Never did I wonder why you did all these things for me. Why you let me treat you the way I did. I’ve just been ignorant. And then one night it happened. We’d been on tour for more than a year, it was a night like many others. I was completely drunk and you tried to get me back to my hotel room. I don’t know what had been going on but I was lying on my bed half asleep when you suddenly started to shout at me. Telling me I was throwing away my life because of the drinking. I told you to mind your own business. You sat down next to me, stroke over my head and smiled. You said you love me, that I was your hero who had helped you starting a new life. You said you knew that I would never love you the way you do but you would always be thankful and you would always love me. Walking a step behind me and letting me shine was enough for you to be happy. I just turned away and fell asleep. The next morning I pretend like I’d had a blackout. When I told you I didn’t remember anything about the night before, I looked into your eyes to see if you believed me.
And you did.

The years went by, you kept working for me. Somehow I turned into an ignorant asshole more and more. The fame just screw up my brain. I treated most people like shit. All I wanted was success and fun, regardless if I was the only one who was having fun. I didn’t care about other people’s feelings, not about my band mates’ and especially not about yours. I did what I wanted, no regrets.
There were a few times when even you had enough. You told me you wanted to quit your job, you wanted to leave me. I let you go, telling you that I could find a substitute for you anytime. But only a day later I used to be down on my knees, begging you to come back. You told me you couldn’t stand me the way I was. I always promised to change.
But I didn’t.
And now I’m sitting here next to your bed. It seems like you’re only sleeping. White skin on white sheets. Your face looks like it’s made out of delicate porcelain, no eyeliner and lipstick, all your piercings are gone. Short light brown downy hair is covering your head. Again you look so fragile and vulnerable, just like on the first day we met. But this time you look so different. Only the colourful tattoos on your arms remind of what you have looked like once. I can’t believe it’s you. But maybe this is showing more of yourself than I’ve ever seen before? I wish I had taken more time to get to know the real you.
But I didn’t.
It must have been cold there in my shadow. But you never gave me up. You looked after me. You were strong, strong for me and strong for yourself. No matter how I behaved, you have been there for me, helping me out, regardless what your feelings were.
Do you remember when you said I was your hero? Now that I’m looking back, I can only say that you are my hero! You are so much that I would like to be. I want you to know that without you I’d be lost, I’d be nothing. Your support was what helped me from drowning in my superficial rockstar lifestyle. You are the wind beneath my wings, the wind that made me fly so high without crashing down. I’m so sorry I never told you this and I wish I could have a chance to tell you now. But it’s too late. The cancer is taking you away from me. You’re dieing. Nothing can bring you back. I so wish I said thanks to you just one time.
But I didn’t.


the end



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