I came home early on Saturday, August 24th and slept through the night. I woke up early in the morning and looked down at my thighs and noticed they were considerably smaller. I decided to step on my scale to satisfy my mind's query. Sure enough I lost 10 pounds overnight. Never before nor after have I been able to manage that feat.
I laid back down because whatever it was had taken hold of me again. I awoke to the phone ringing. I answered. My friend, Mickey, was crying. Are you listening to the radio, K? Did you hear about her? Aaliyah is dead.
I am a skeptic. I believe NOTHING until I see the proof for myself. Far too often we hear rumors about someone passing when they are actually alive and well. I am upset that the media killed Bernie Mac off a week before he actually passed away. Makes me wanna believe that all of the gossip powers were able to take him out, yet I know it's not that simple.
I hung up with Mickey, explaining to her that I was under the weather. I turned the radio on and they were playing Aaliyah songs. That meant nothing. I listened some more until the radio DJ mentioned that Aaliyah Haughton had passed away in a plane crash. Now I understood Mickey's tears. Though she is emotional and has a tendency of falling in love and carrying on relationships with celebrities (she was the one in a relationship with Jay-Z), she was crying for me. I had just arrived from a trip overseas and it was my first time flying. Everyone including my mother was nervous about me flying, except me. For Mickey, Aaliyah's death could have easily been mine.
Today marks the 7th anniversary of Aaliyah's death. I am not one for observing death dates, I prefer to observe their birth dates, yet I can't help but remember how fortunate I felt that day, how sad I was and though Aaliyah was not an off the meter pop singer, I love her music and I miss her.
"I Don't Wanna"