Meet Me in New Orleans in April?

If I were to buy an extra ticket to see Taj Mahal in April in New Orleans, would you come?

I’m serious.  I’ve been thinking a lot about this since yesterday when it suddenly occurred to me that, at some point, I will have to accept the fact that you are not coming back.  I won’t be able to do that unless I’ve exhausted all my resources.  I need to know I did everything in my limited ability to try to reach you.  I say limited because you’ve left me only this platform with which to speak to you.  I come here every single day to send my words out to you.  I don’t always know what I want to say.  I don’t always know if I’ll have anything to say.  Hence, the utter garbage as of late.  I only know I need to say something so you will know I’m still here.  I don’t ever want you to think I’m not here or that I’ve left you.  I’m never going to leave you but I will eventually have to accept the fact that you may have already left me.  I won’t accept that without something concrete.  A sign, if you will.

So I propose the following:

Meet me in New Orleans on April 30.  I’ll buy an extra ticket to see Taj.   We’ll meet somewhere at a certain time.  I’ll give you those details later.  I haven’t quite worked that out yet.  I’ll tell you exactly what I’ll be wearing.  You already know what I look like so you’ll recognize me, I’m certain.  I’ll buy the tickets on my birthday and post a picture here when I do.

I know you aren’t reading any of this and this is all in vain but it will maybe give me closure on April 30 when you don’t show up.  It will give me the proof my heart needs that you no longer exist except in my memory.  I will go to the show alone.  Maybe I will leave the extra ticket on the bar before I make my way to the venue.  Maybe some stranger will pick it up.  Maybe he will hold my hand while I weep for you.  Maybe he will hug me and tell me goodbye after the show and maybe I will whisper goodbye back to him, knowing I’m really whispering it to you.

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