Its taken me a month to heal from losing you.
When I saw the headlines, I was 15 again. Out of place and way too high. Flying over a bright city in a dark sky. From a bird’s eye view, life feels so much bigger than you.
It makes so much sense that after the nightmares of years that 2016 and 2017 were, my life came full circle the day Bob Marley was born. On February 6th, 2017 I became a 9th Grade Program Manager to 130+ different versions of me, circa 2009. It hurt especially bad reading the news, behind a laptop screen, surrounded by kids who could fathom an adolescence without you.
Malcolm,
I’ve suffered from Depression for as long as I can remember. I’m talking single digits. I didn’t know what it was, I didn’t know why it was, but I always knew that I was different. My family isolated me. They talked about me among themselves. I always overhead whispers of “that girl’s crazy” in between sobs, locked away in my room.
My life was different from every single kid that I knew. And so I realized that, Sometimes when you’re young, the only place to go is inside.
So, I wrote.
I filled up notebooks with my pain. Until, ironically, a Jewish man changed my life (for the first time). My 7th Grade Science teacher introduced our school to spoken word poetry but he made sure that I was coached to perform.
Malcolm,
On August 13, 2010, I was somewhere in West Bubble Fuck, North Carolina on the brink of an identity crisis. I had been torn away from the world as I knew it (New York), friendships that I’d just started to make in the white ass catholic school that my mom forced me to go to after an entire life in my district schools, family that I felt I was just beginning to know, and the stage that I had freshly fallen in love with.
I had finally found an outlet and now, my words were thrown back into the confinement of their pages. My grandmother’s last words to me had gone in vain.
Malcolm,
11th Grade was not my first introduction to marijuana. But junior year was when I finally found my clique! I finally felt the feeling of belonging, among the stoners at my new, white, rural high school. That’s because stoners come in all shades, all ages, and all different walks of life. A blunt NEEDS a cypher. A cypher NEEDS souls. Those souls NEED music. And music can unite the world.
I realized, I could fall in love again.
In my new adolescent world, When you go to sleep at night, you dream about music. When you wake up, it’s the same thing. It’s there in your face. You can’t escape it.
My junior year of high school was pure, under the influence, bliss.
My friends and I were Rollin’ up good every place we went. Although we knew the bullshit and all the problems, we were too gone to see.
Malcolm,
The pounds of weed I smoked to K.I.D.S could’ve put a dent in my student loan debt.
But, on March 11, 2011, I had just found out that I was 10 months away from graduating high school and only 11 months away from moving back to NY. Best. Day. Ever.
Malcolm,
When I went away to Temple University, I was alone again. The next 4 years of my life would be a series of unfortunate events. Continuous failed attempts to find a clique. Endless failed attempts to make connections.
Sophomore year, I mustered up enough courage to rekindle an old flame. I tried out for and was accepted into the most dope adult Hip Hop and spoken word collective in Philly. My love for stage was at an all time high. Then, its flame was prematurely extinguished. That collective was TOXIC. So much so, that I let it tear me away from my first love, again.
Shit got dark from there.
In my darkest moments, it was, again, the stoners at school who kept me hanging on.
Malcolm,
The day after you passed, I reached out to Scott. In an Instagram message that didn’t give him nearly the credit he deserves, I wrote:
This might be weird but I’m gonna do it anyway.
When I heard about Mac Miller passing, it hurt, bad. It still hurts. He was one of the artists that made high school bearable. But you, you kept me alive in high school.
I just want to let you know, you mean the world to me and I want you to know that because too often we wait until it’s too late to express what people mean to us.
I cried on the bus on my way to school when I first heard Soundtrack 2 My Life. I cried because:
1. I didn’t know anyone else on this earth that knew exactly how I felt.
2. I hated that you had to feel that pain too
Thank you. Thank you for your sacrifice. I’m so sorry that you had to go through what you’ve been through. You are so powerful and impactful. I hope you have found peace and have learned healthy ways to cope. I hope that in this lifetime, you receive all of the love and support that you deserve.
Malcom,
I went into a month long depression when you passed. I didn’t even know how deep of a rut I was in until my manager had to pull me aside about dropping the ball at work.
She didn’t do it to be mean or because I was making her look bad. No one else actually noticed the change in me. She did it because she gives a fuck about my professional growth. She did it because she knows what I have to offer the organization and the kids we reach. She did it because she gives a fuck about me.
She made me feel connected to someone. That connection, that compassion was all it took. I’ve been on fire at work ever since. I’ve made peace in real life, since.
Everyday I wake up to serve those kids, I do so with the context of 2009. I do so, painfully remembering all that I needed and wanted at 15. I do so, striving to be all that you were for me.
Malcolm,
Somewhere through it all, I stopped listening. I forgot about the times when music was all I had. When you were all I had. When you, Kid Cudi, Maroon 5, Avril Lavigne, Simple Plan, Good Charlotte, Green Day, Eminem, Lil Wayne, Jay Z, J Cole, A$AP Mob,Chance the Rapper, Curren$y, Drake, Kanye West, Elton John, John Mayer, Frank Ocean and the rest of Odd Future, Jhene Aiko, Kendrick Lamar, Schoolboy Q, SZA, Lauryn Hill, Maxwell, Miguel, N.E.R.D, Musiq Soulchild, Outkast, OverDoz, The Weeknd, and Bob Marley were the only things that kept me breathing.
I took you for granted. Then, I lost you.
The connection that I made to you through your music, saved my life. I’m so sorry that you had to go through what you’ve been through. You are so powerful and impactful. I hope that you have found peace. I wish that in this lifetime, you were able to receive all of the love and support that you deserved.
Thank you. Thank you for your sacrifice.
