A night with…Heather

I remember that night like it was yesterday. I was in highschool and head over heels in love with a guy I’d met on mIRC. Remember that weird, addictive little thing we used to communicate through long before Facebook was born and fucked up everything?

Though only seventeen, he was mature, funny, confident, knowledgeable and experienced and his grammar was flawless – our conversations were the best remedy I had for adolescence and all it’s drama. I loved how he always left me craving for more and how I was desperately trying – and royally failing – to be witty and flirtacious and smart and interesting and everything in between just to get him to finally ask me out. I became addicted to his online persona, dying to know what he looked like, sit him down somewhere and just breathe in everything about him. I was hoping he’d change my life.

And, in a way, he has. Just not in the way I thought he would – but better.

 

 

So one night, which turned out to be the closest thing to perfection I had lived up to that moment, as I was home alone and we were caught in our mIRC talks as always, I did something I had never done before and just asked him if he wanted to meet me right then. There was no time to waste. My heart was pounding as I was waiting for him to type in his answer. He asked for the address and told me I had twenty minutes to get ready and showed up downstairs in a cab exactly twenty minutes later. As the elevator was taking me down to meet him, I experienced a powerful Cinderella moment that stayed with me throughout the years. I was meeting my Prince Charming for the first time, which meant I was all grown up and ready for love now.

Only I wasn’t.

He took me to Subway and the only things standing between us were a table and two half empty coke bottles. We talked about everything until the sun came up and the bottles were empty. I was smittened with everything he knew and how different he was from all the guys my age who had nothing interesting to communicate and as he was telling me something about his mom and dad, all I could think about was how green and beautiful his eyes were and how he had a little bit of Robbie Williams in his attitude.

Suffice it to say, I didn’t quite have the same effect on him as he had on me. He must have thought I was a sweet kid who was yet to experience and discover the wonderful things in life, desprately from him – because our conversations became less frequent. And that absolutely shattered my heart, because I had already starting to tell people that we were together.

 

 

But I wasn’t going to give up that easily. My experience had not yet been completed, he had not yet taught me everything I needed to know  – and there was still so much, I could feel it, so I continued to pursue this one sided devastating crush that made me look a little desperate (and we all know what guys think about desperate girls, right?) But despite my crazyness, he agreed to meet me again – this time, he invited me to his place. Now, I know what you all must think and yes, I shouldn’t have gone. It was the middle of the night again, he was still technically a stranger, my parents were away and didn’t know about any of this, I could have been kidnapped and sold for body parts, I could have vanished without a trace, a million bad things could have happened to me and no one would have found me. Thank God this wasn’t taking place in America, otherwise I probably wouldn’t be alive today to tell this story of both innocence and great importance to my spiritual evolution.

So, around that time, I had discovered my inner voice and it was telling me that everything was alright with this fellow and it was safe to go. So I got dressed and changed around ten outfits, put on a pair of high heled sandals – it was summer and I was starting to get a little chubby from all the ice-cream sandwitches I was eating compulsively, out of missing him, jumped into a cab, got to the address and rang the door. I had no idea what to expect from this encounter and certainly didn’t know what I wanted, but boy was I curious to see what was in store. But most of all, I think I needed someone to talk to. Freely. Openly. Someone my age who could understand what I was going through. Someone who could make me want to be better. Someone to put my trust in. Someone dear. Someone to look up to. Someone who wouldn’t dismiss me. Someone to make my confused teenage heart beat differently. Someone with flawless grammar. Someone like him.

 

 

And I think he felt it too, because we ended up talking about everything and nothing again, he massaged my feet, showed me the view from his balcony and his Rotweiller’s chew toys, we sat in confortable chairs and listened to the most revelatory playlist I had ever heard, he taught me more about music than I thought there was, helped me expand my mind and my soul towards music in ways only my father has, told me his mom would have loved me, than the sun came up, we went for a walk than I jumped into a cab and returned home a forever changed person.

That night was also my first encounter with Heather Nova’s music and I never stopped listening since. When I heard she was coming to London, there was no doubt in my mind I had to get tickets. And the shock of seeing most of her fans looking like they’ve lost the fight and hearing that she is almost sixty now made me think of how old I actually am and the many lifetimes we’ve all lived since highschool.

But she was perfect, her energy calm and peaceful and her voice, as haunting as always.

I believe moments and connections like these make life worth living. They remind you of where you’ve started, places you’ve been, what you’ve gone through, how much growth there still is to be done and leave you lying on the floor alone, ravished and possibly naked, with a bouquet of mixed feelings and revelations spread around you.

But you are exacly where you need to be.

Thank you, Heather.

And thank you, S. I’ll forever owe part of my light to you.

 

Green Eyed Kisses,