Prince entered my life at a time when my budding sexuality was mixed with confusion, temptation, and ignorance. As I write this, I am reminded of the poem, The Goblin Market by Christina Rosetti. His music was what I played over and over on tapes recorded from the radio. I watched Purple Rain so many times that I could recite it. I dreamed that I would be as sexy as Apollonia and Prince would desire me. Alex and Prince became the personification of forbidden temptations that were calling. I suspected that, soon, I would understand the subtext. I was just too young.
Alex died in 2008. He was just over 41. I remember wanting desperately to stand up at his eulogy and tell of the impact he had on my life and my future relationships. I wanted to tell about how his ghost loomed large in the lovers that I have chosen. I did not. Now, in 2016, I am faced, once again, with not only his loss, but that of a master.
Prince was an incredible artist, and played the very soundtrack of my life. In his passing, I truly mourn that which is past and will be no more. I am faced with the passing of my youth. The world is a bit dimmer today.
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