Journalist, Hazel Jameson, lands an interview with the one and only Prince, now 46 years old. She gets him to open up about the one time he truly believed he was in love. Her name was Sherilyn Rae Lawrence and he met her back in 1987. Amidst the per...
The question so simple yet so complicated. One could be in love with the sky or the moon. One could be in love the colors brought in June.
To be in love with something wasn't a rarity at all.
Music, for one, is loved by all.
But a love so deep you could hardly breathe without it.
A love so real you give up the world behind it.
A love like that only happens once.
A love like hers only happens once.
Her skin was so brown, yet cheeks so red...
Her voice so sweet, yet words unsaid...
She made me whole, yet so broken inside...
She was the only one I knew who could make me cry...
I loved her... So much it was unnatural...
The love we both shared was unnatural....
A love like this only happens once.
Here one day, gone the next.
"I thought we agreed, no personal questions..." I ran my fingers against the walls of the room as I refused to look at her.
There was only one rule I have before allowing her to conduct this interview. No personal questions. None whatsoever, or I'm done.
"I know, I was just interested. It would be off the record." She spoke and her curiosity intrigued me. She knew not to ask, but she did it anyway.
Her curiosity made her not afraid of me. And that in itself was a rarity.
I hear her laptop close and I turned to see her put it on the floor.
"I've learned so much about you in the last hour or so. I appreciate you opening up with me. I have enough information to write the piece and yet when talking to you I felt like something was missing." She began to justify her reasoning against my silence.
I could feel my heart race at the thought of the question. Only one other time I could remember being asked this.
It had been so long I wondered if my memory even had what it took to retell that story. And even if it did, my heart wouldn't beat it.
"I'm sorry I asked." She concluded gathering her things to go and I turned back around.
"Love isn't love until it's lost..."
She stopped in her tracks looking back at me. The press tag dangled from the collar of her coat; reflecting what little light was in here already.
I could tell my words confused her even more and she didn't want to say it.
"Yes, I've known love Ms. Jameson. Would you like to hear about it?"
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