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White boy and Ben Howard

  There is something beautifully broken about deja vu. I heard once that it is your mind telling you that you have been here, in this moment, and survived. That all will be well. But I suppose this wasn't entirely concrete deja vu. This was me rewriting memories.
  Three years ago, I sat in this exact theatre waiting for Ben Howard to sing to me. I waited for him to open up and bare his soul in a way that no musician ever had. This time, although still waiting for him, it was just night and day in my circumstance.
  Walking the long distance, was somewhat of a different cadence. Last time, I walked next to a man who broke me and tried to glue me back together with an emotionless dalliance and cacophonous pleasantries. This time I couldn't stop thinking of the man who gave nothing but euphoric words of forever.
  To be honest, I wasn't sure how Ben would speak to me this time around. Would it be a stroll down memory lane or would it be a whole new adventure full of passion and noonday dreams begetting life. It wasn't until the first strum of his guitar and his opening line, "To care or not to care/ to be there in the distant and uncertain..." that I felt the old memory slough off in sheets of sludge. I was new. I was loved!
  This man, Ben Howard, has seen me through ups and downs of love lost and gained...or perhaps what I thought was love. And through it all has whisked me to the highest grandeur. My heart begged to be lying next to my love or yet more strongly for him to be next to me wiping the tears away as present rewrote history.
  I wish I could have known then what I know now...that white boy would replace all. But it seemed that Ben new... he knew as he sang, "Sister, love comes and goes/we walk a tight rope..." What a beautiful reminder that music brings life. That it brings love. Last time, I sat cracked and bleeding out. This time, I sat so fully whole...begging, in my heart, to be by my lover's side. Can't wait to be home tomorrow!

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