Hey Bon Jovi, Sorry I Missed Ya

Hey Jon Bon Jovi, this ones for you.

I sold my ticket that I had to your concert tonight, because as much as I'd love to say that in my lifetime I still got to experience the same excitement and vibrant energy one of your concerts brings, my health decided that isn't in my fate.

So as all my friends prepare for the night out full of blaring music and bright lights that will result in a night they won't forget, I'll be at home.

Maybe taking the 3rd nap of the day. Maybe struggling through studying for exams. Maybe I'll already be calling it a day by the time you step onto stage.

I'm sure it'll be a wonderful night.

...

I don't think people realize how much stuff like this hurts. I missed the concert last year because the Greenville show was during too busy of a week for me to go. And today, I could have tickets in hand, but instead another lucky one of my friend's friend will get to go in my place.

Its truly amazing how I can love something so much and not be able to enjoy it. I don't know if there will ever be a day I'll be able to go to another indoor concert. I can quietly sit alone and listen to my records and albums on repeat, but that option to be in the moment and experience what will become live versions of albums, isn't something I can partake in.

Its a shame I don't love things like quietly reading, or attending art galleries. You know... quiet things that don't involve a lot of bright lights or loud noises or possible smells.

Somehow I ended up loving loud rock music and roaring engines and sporting events.

So I may be feeling slightly better this afternoon than I have been most of the weekend, but at the end of the day it'll never be better enough.

So, Mr. Bon Jovi, if you ever on the slightest chance stumble across this, I'm sorry I missed your show for the second year in a row. I can't imagine missing it for the world, but migraine is bigger than the world I live in.

Maybe you could hold a poetry reading or something. Maybe then I could go.

-A

Comments

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My Life. My Migraine.

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