I haven’t said anything to anyone about Michael Jackson since the moment I heard that he went into cardiac arrest. I definitely haven’t said anything on the internet. I guess after these 12 days I was just too shocked to actually acknowledge it, it seemed so unreal to me. Every time I felt the urge to shed a tear, I fought it back with a stiff upper lip.

Today as I watched his memorial, I couldn’t fight it anymore. I haven’t cried so much in so long. Through my years, I’ve been lucky enough to never really have to deal with death. I’ve never had anyone close to me die, but this is as close as it gets.

It may seem absurd to some people, I get that. Some people just don’t understand how you could feel so close and connected to someone you’ve never met, as if they were your friend. But as we have all witnessed over the past week, there are millions of people around the world who feel the same as I do. And for the people in my life who just can’t grasp it, maybe this will be a little insight. Although I don’t think I can say it any better than anyone who has befor eme.

I felt a terrible loss with the death of Michael. I lost the person who taught me how to dance, even though I could never be that good. I lost the person who taught me how to be passionate about everything in life, and to do it all with a smile. I lost the man who taught me about music and how it enriches life. I lost the man that I so desperately wanted to be like when I was a kid. There were only two people in the world that I wanted to be like: Madonna and Michael. I remember exactly where our record player sat in the house, and every day my brothers and I would put on one of his albums and dance around the house. There’s nothing more soothing than the sound of good music..a little scratchy and fuzzy, on a record plaer. And I really don’t know how my parents dealt with us trying to watch the Moonwalker tape EVERY day, but they did. Those memories will forever be etched into my mind.

In Michael I saw all the possibilities. I admired the way he reached every corner of the world, seemingly, without effort. In him I saw someone who really cared about the fragility of humanity and the world. I loved the way he commanded a crowd, the way he could silence an audience of thousands upon thousands. And they would listen.

I guess one of the things that makes this so much harder is the fact that I didn’t get to meet him. I was always so hopeful that one day it would happen. I think that his fans grieve so hard not just because they lost an icon, but because they never got to embrace him. They never got to experience the real life magic, or shake his hand, or tell him how amazingly special he is. I can never look into his eyes, take a picture with him, or echo the words that have been said so many times over the past 40 years, “I love you Michael.”

This simply breaks my heart.