I wrote a post about Prince and the other day. It wasn’t the post I should have written. I’m not sure why. My best explanation is that this A to Z Challenge has had me in my head quite a bit, and I think I needed a little distance from all the memories swirling around in my brain .
Prince and Purple Rain have special meaning to me and my husband, but it wasn’t something I put a lot of thought into. It’s just something that was. I was too tired a couple of days ago to find the words to describe it, so I just didn’t try. But I’m going to now.
“Before there was an us, there was you, me and Prince.”
That’s what my husband said to me tonight when I came home from work, put my head on his shoulder and said, “I feel so silly. I didn’t even know the man. Why am I so sad?”
Prince is part of our story. He has been since day one.
Shawn and I worked together in a sub shop in the town where we went to college. All I really knew about Shawn was that he was the guy who liked Nirvana and Pavement. I was the girl who like Mariah Carey and Alanis Morissette. Those seemed like two very different worlds to us.
Then, one night, I brought in my Prince CDs, and we just sat and talked about dancing to his songs in junior high: how they made us think of different crushes we had and who we were with when we first heard the Purple Rain soundtrack. A couple of nights later, we watched the movie together. It became the basis of our friendship. It was our thing before there was even an us.
I don’t know how many times we’ve watched the movie together since then. Or how many times we quoted lyrics or lines to each other. Or slow danced to “Purple Rain” in our living room. Rarely a week goes by that I don’t listen to his music.
So tonight we sat and ate dinner and talked about Prince long after the kids got bored and left the table, Prince’s music in the background.
Now we’re going to open a bottle of wine and watch Purple Rain. And I will cry when it’s over. Because Prince is part of our story, and to have a piece of that gone is heartbreaking.