A(nother) letter to a favourite band

Dear Editors,

we have history, you guys cannot deny that. Although I am pretty sure you don’t remember these two 14 year old girls, showing up early in front of the concert hall, desperate to catch a glimpse at you getting ready for the big night, begging the security men to let us sneak in for the sound check, knowing every word to every song and staying after the very last encore, trying to get our hands on a set list or a drum stick. 

But we are all grown-ups now and know: Life happens and it happened to us. Kind of like being in a long term relationship, when you wake up one day and start to wonder if what you feel is simply a calmer more mature kind of love or if this relationship has become nothing but a deep friendship sprinkled with habit. Back then I broke up with you and took the easy way out, writing a letter here on this very blog. It was a hard time for me too, even though I can assure you with all my heart: It was not me, it was you. You wanted the big stage, I longed for intimacy. You wanted stadium rock, I wanted the old anthems with a whole lot of soul and a little bit of Pathos on the side. Hell, you even kicked out Chris and replaced him with these two guys whose names I can’t remember.

I am writing this in my apartment, while the soy milk flocks in my coffee and I am still humming "Two Hearted Spider" in my mind. Yesterday we met at the E-Werk here in my hometown and what can I say, it was all there again. The lights, the songs, the feeling. We danced to "Papillon" and the first tones of "All sparks" reminded me that old love never dies. Not quite.

So what I am trying to say here is, I think I made a big mistake. You might not want to hear this, you might even still be angry, but I just wanted to get this off my chest. After all, I am pulling off a Julia Roberts here, being a girl standing in front of her favourite band, asking for one more chance to work things out?

Truly, madly, deeply,

Gina