Fade Into You

I was attending Jazz Fest in New Orleans some time in the early 90s when I met a gorgeous hippie chick from Memphis at an Allman Brothers show. She was a beautiful and ethereal free spirit while I was a career-obsessed, uptight former soldier and about as square as was possible; I’d come to New Orleans to celebrate my birthday and try to live a little as all I did was work and live a fairly lonely and mostly empty life back in Indiana. I might have been on the verge of deep depression and possibly suicide. She and I spent the week together smoking weed and enjoying ourselves wandering around New Orleans like two ghosts. When we parted she confessed to me she had to get back to a husband and two-year-old son in Memphis, that she’d love me forever, but, goodbye forever, the die had been cast in her life. She had come to New Orleans to kill herself after running away from her husband and kid; meeting me gave her a reason to live. Though I was sad to part with her, she’d given me a reason to live mine too. I never saw or heard from her again.

I had a vicious panic attack while driving back home to Indiana merely thinking about never seeing her again. This song so reminds me of perhaps the most amazing woman I have ever met. She was so goddamn cool and perfect that I’m haunted by the thought of not spending the rest of my life with her. If my life is tragic it’s because when it comes to love and romance, I have the shittiest timing imaginable. I’m cursed.