Hey Applehead 250609,
(Thanx for your enthusiastic compliment!) God bless YOU, too! 
Now...where is YOUR story of a whole day with MJ :?: :mrgreen:
Hello Its Her!!!I dont know how to tell you but I dont have a story of a whole day with Mj.Maybe Im do busy with this investigation 8-) ,to think at a whole day with Mj.Not that I dont what to, but I know that its impossible and you know it also,so thats it,sorry.
But I have one story that I really what to share with you and with the rest of people if you have some extra time to read.I promise you will be very happy after the story its finished because it will make you fell you have been to NEVERLAND with Michael playing with water ballons,super soakers,Prince and Paris also.I dont know if this story its true but who know,with Mj everything its possible, so....
One day I found out about Michael Jackson tribut portrait,I am a DOT there also,
.If you visit the site,you will see that down page are partners and associates of the site.There I found out about a site,a beautiful one actually.This is the site adress:
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LoginOn this site you can find out many things,from the trials,his lirycs,spirituality,HIS-Story,simbolism,visions,projects,poetry,charity,important articles,and this story .Please dont skip the WELCOME introduction on the site,you will be amazed of the things written there. :shock:
The sory about this girl who can be anyone here,including you Its Her
its called :
WINGS OF MY LOVE.I know its a long story but after I had finished to read I was like OMG,I want more :oops: !!!!! Please read it with an open mind and tell me your toughts after,ok?
WING OF MY LOVE[attachment=0:19k1pmo5]v_40.jpg[/attachment:19k1pmo5]
Today I’m here to tell you a story. Oh boy, but where to begin? Maybe starting at the beginning or beginning somewhere in the middle - or would it be best to start at the end of it? No, not at the end, or the suspense would be gone.
Well, this is fact: there is a human being, a man, and this man has got a special place in my heart. Oh, come on - you know exactly who I mean. Oh yes….well, in fact I had always dreamed of meeting him, of talking to him. And on this day, this extraordinary day in my life, on this day I got the opportunity to do so.
In thinking about it today it feels like I’m there again, on this wonderful piece of earth, probably the most beautiful one that exists. In fact it is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. And somehow I never left… But perhaps I really should tell you one thing after the other...
So here I am, looking out of the window of this elegant white limousine, seeing this big, wooden gate approaching. Jee, am I excited! My stomach feels like filled with butterflies. My stomach? What’s that actually? Oh my God, I knew I would die! I watch the big black man, my chauffeur, who had picked me up at the airport. He murmurs something into this little machine - maybe some kind of telephone? - and somehow I’m shocked when soon afterwards I see the gate opening silently and weightlessly.
The road lined with wonderful plants, all those flowers, trees and horses on the meadows around I don’t realize at all.
I’m only trying to clean my hands at my trousers once and once again. Just imagine I’d shake his hand and mine is such a cold sweating seal-paw! I can imagine his glance… Oh my God, just don’t let that happen! And there is one more problem.. English! I have to talk English! Sure, I did practise my English the whole flight and have tried to only think in this language, but right now I can’t remember a single word!
As the black man opens the door of the car and even bows a little bit, I stammer something, still I’ve got the feelings that’s just bubbles coming out of my mouth. The “th” of my crumbled “thank you”s had sounded better sometime!
Just in that moment I have to think about an old class-mate of mine I have always been laughing at him because he didn’t learn the right articulation…damn! I won’t ever laugh again at anybody! I swear. And now I know why he always blushed…
But the bodyguard – well, in fact I don’t have a clue who this guy is, but he kind of looks like a bodyguard, and it could be, right? – winks and puts his hand onto my shoulder:
“Willkommen in Neverland!”
Oh my God, he can speak German! Wonderful, if I continue being that stupid, I will even forget HIS name! But most likely he isn’t here anyway. Most likely I will spend my day here and will always imagine how endlessly wonderful it would be if he was here talking to me... But while looking cautiously at the house, I start to wish he’s not there! God father, let him be in the studio! Let him be at the other end of the world or elsewhere! I know I will die if I see him! Yes, exactly! Always the same mess! All fans are exactly the same! Why should I be the exception? And thereby I had been so convinced that with me everything would be different. I wanted to stand right before him, grin at him and ask: “Hi, Michael! How are you?” Oh, that’s been quite a nice thought, wasn’t it?
But right now I have a little problem, no, I’ve got two! I have forgotten how to say that in English and my tongue has slipped somewhere into my neck. Apart from this my knees will cave in if I do only one step! He will hate me! I know it! And I don’t want that!
Searching for help I stare at the black man and see his stifled grin in his nicely smiling eyes. I guess you can’t feel more stupid! I think I’m still staring as I answer instinctively to a question someone behind me asks.
“Did you enjoy the journey?”, a soft woman-voice asks. “Thanks, it was okay…..”, I murmur in turning around.
I can look into dark eyes in a nice thin face with long brown hair. That’s…Christine! Oh my God, so she really exists! Well, to understand this situation you ought to know that from time to time we all imagine the woman that could be Michael’s girlfriend – if the ever exists. A woman of dreams, of course, yes, and now…exactly like this she’s meant to be! And this higher being of which I’d never thought that she could exist I had named Christine – just for fun! Well, at that time it was for fun, but right now she is standing in front of me!.. Or she is a fata morgana while I’m already laying in coma or something like that? Or a ghost? Or is it a hundred-years-old housekeeper who wears her hair in a bun? And my confused mind just interprets this woman the way it wants to. However she is still there, smiling and not looking at me like I had said something terribly stupid. “Come with me, I’m going to show you everything…”
Ha, if I ever come back home without being completely insane – I swear right here and right now I will invite my former English teacher to a six-course-menu in a five-stars-hotel. Sometime of course, when I have enough money…
So I follow her straight away. Without looking right or left I toddle behind her staring at the floor without realizing what’s happening around me. Probably that’s just the terrible fear that she might be gone all of a sudden and…And what? There’s no time to think about that. And as I said my brain doesn’t work anyway.
Oh, here’s a threshold! Then I see parquet. What a quality! Oh yes, the quality of the floor I do notice. A carpet with some flowery pattern, afterwards one with Chinese women that carry funny looking things on their heads – or are they Japanese? At least women with slitted eyes, what should I care about their origin? Another threshold, three steps and…what? Flagstones lined with grass on both sides. I am a bit irritated and rise my head to notice that we have crossed the house and now are in the park.
Here it is really warm so that slowly my clothes begin to cling to my body. Instinctively I strip off my pullover.
“Sit down.”, Christine – I just bet that’s her name! – points out to some wonderful chairs in a cosy alcove. Everything is out of marble but the chairs and the table consist of an inviting pale wood. Hesitating I look around and see how huge the adjacent house is in fact! Really, pure Disneyland! The style, the colours, the curtains at most of the windows. But what else did I expect? I have no idea, but anyway I would have never believed I’d really see this house one day!
Exhausted and very carefully I sit down in one of the broad chairs and close my eyes for a moment. Wouldn’t it be easier and less complicated to be at home now and, according to the time difference, to lay in bed, peacefully asleep and just to dream of HIM? In this very second in which I dream of my safe fantasy and the silence of my room, I notice how silent it is here. No sound to be heard, only birds that chirp gaily but somehow calmative. Oh yes, somehow it’s really nice here…
“Michael…”
WHAT???! WHERE???!! I hear the young woman saying this well known word and the peace is over from one moment to the other. Dear God, I have always been a really good and honest person! Okay, sometimes I have bothered my friend because of her stupid boyfriend and some other little sins, but most of the time I haven’t done anything wrong… Let this goblet just pass by…PLEASE!
No way, within a millisecond I have jumped up and stare at Christine, or whatever is her name, so shocked as if she had said, Michael had finally decided to do a sex change… Most likely she has only said this evil word to continue the phrase with something like “…unfortunately isn’t here today…” or some other redemptive words. Well, unfortunately not.
I can’t move as I slowly follow her eyes, but probably on my face there isn’t the same calm smile but rather the brow of the princess who finds out at the evening that the frog is again in her bed.
And so there he is, standing in black trousers and a shirt of the same colour, about five metres away. He just stands there quietly, looking at me. I cling to his eyes like a fly to a flycatcher. These eyes…..no, I know that fans say he can look like a puppy. Today I know that that’s not true. No dog could ever look at you like this! It’s…..a deer... or a young antelope, or maybe a hamster, just bigger, no…a deer fits best. HELLO, wake up!!!! I stare and stare, but at least I try to verify if my mouth is closed. So I beat with my tongue at the insides of my lips and do really hope my mouth doesn’t stand ajar, because otherwise the aspect couldn’t be more stupid.. Phew, no, all clear, everything closed.
Shit, these eyes, these damn eyes! Like Kaa, the Jungle book-snake! Certainly he has something in there that hypnotizes...
“So that’s our guest of honour..”
Oh devil, this voice! I feel how reality slowly vanishes….Well, that’s a cool feeling…
“Yes, she finally arrived.” I guess Christine said that. But who can know that exactly...?
“Happy birthday! How are you feeling today on your day of honour?”
“How are you, Michael?”
Shit! That was the wrong phrase! Complete failure, but I had been rehearsing it for such a long time and once and once again thought about it that it has been clinging to my tongue for weeks. And so, in this moment, I had no chance to prevent it of coming out!
But he doesn’t laugh about it.
“I’m fine, thanks”, he answers in a low voice.
“I want to hear the truth, Michael, please…”
Ah right! I haven’t heard exactly what he answered, but I have wondered so many times what he would say, so that this sentence was programmed to be the next I say! I won! But we can’t continue this conversation for a long time like this, because I already don’t know what to say next.
He keeps silence and looks at the ground. Is that the reason for the feeling I have right now? It feels like someone has poured a bucket of water on me. Has he stopped with holding me in his ban? This white, baggy cloud of unreality has gone, has just vanished – AWAY! I see him standing there, small and delicate, completely dressed in black clothes, looking at the ground. The hair which is also black – probably a wig – falls smooth and benign onto his shoulders.
“Michael?” I approach him, and it is pretty easy!
“Michael, nice to meet you.” I reach out my hand to him as if we hadn’t welcomed each other before.
“Hello! Nice to have you here. Welcome to Neverland.”
He looks at me again and apparently doesn’t marvel at my odd behaviour. Maybe he is just glad that I didn’t ask again. Now is the first time I can enjoy the full beauty of the look in his eyes and the beauty of his face. His skin is as soft as silk, as white as snow, his hair as black as the night and... uuh... anyway, everybody knows how this story continues! Think about it by yourself...
But the most unbelievable thing about this man is this freedom. He is surrounded by an incomprehensible freedom and peace - suddenly my heart doesn't beat so fast any more, no, it's like time stands still.
For a long while we stare at each other. It's him who finally turns his eyes away. My god, WHAT should I say? I've had so much plans, so much thoughts for this moment... and where are they now?
"Would you like something to drink? Would you both like to drink something?", it was Christine who asked.
I recognize that he lifts his head and looks at her with the expression of deep thankfulness.
"Oh yes...! Water..."
"And you?," she asked me.
"Me too... please."
"You are from Germany?", he asks.
"Yes"
"I love Germany. And the fans are so loyal there. ... I will visit Germany in the nearest future, believe me."
Now it is me who looks away. I knew that it would be like this. I am just a fan for him. Why doesn't he also tell me that he wants to buy a house over there? This is one of his standard stories - for his fans. But what did I expect? What else should he see in me? I recognize his inconvenience and suddenly I realize that there is nothing else he could see in me. Maybe he is asking himself, what I see in him...
I think about questions I could ask him... or the things I could tell him. I could say, that he’s still the King of Pop that his songs are the greatest, that "Speechless" brings me to tears every time I listen to it, that I will love him forever... or I could ask him where the children are or if he liked the marriage of Liza Minnelli, or how Elizabeth Taylor is doing... But in this moment, I don't feel that it would fit in here.
"Michael, when I think it over, there are so many things I would like to say to you... or ask you, but ... nothing I could say would really describe my feelings ...", that was brave, but spontaneous.
Thankfully his eyes cling to my smile. He doesn't laugh... but I wouldn't have expected him to. He is very quiet. It is strange, he doesn't speak like everyone else does, he communicates with his eyes and his body. He isn't just a god-given talented dancer, no his is a genius of his body. Every single move of his muscles, in his face, with his hands, everything he does just expresses his feelings. I’ve recognized that immediately. But that lip still doesn't work absolutely correctly... Although, in this very moment I have the feeling like this wants to tell me something, too...
I'm sure I didn’t stare at the lip! I swear. But anyway, for two seconds, he lays his finger above it. A strange gesture, still I understand it. This man is really unbelievable. And suddenly I recognize that I have copied his way of sitting. That’s kind of embarrassing. Quickly I try to behave like ME again. Anyway now I understand that there’s no need to speak a lot to have a conversation.
Now the two of us are standing there, drinking our water - in complete silence. Great! But I don't feel any inconvenience, and I don't think it's embarrassing for Michael, too.
According to me I really wished that this moment would never go away, but suddenly I hear the sound of little feet - and really: a lot of children enter the room. First of all, of course, Prince and Paris - I don’t know them but I could bet! Both of them are completely like their dad. Not that they look a lot like him - no - but they move exactly like he does.
The kids run to the table which is full of cakes and juice all of a sudden. I didn't recognize that someone put all that stuff in here. As he sees his children, Michaels face changes. His mouth didn't change a lot, but his pointed cheeks stand out a bit more and little wrinkles curl up around his eyes. With other words: he is radiant with happiness.
My attention now switches between him and his children. Prince and the other boys immediately have started eating the cake, but Paris comes up to us. With her short arms she embraces on leg of her daddy and leans her head to his knee as if he could give her new energy. Carefully Michael kneels down, takes his little girl in his arms, closes his eyes and holds her tight. I feel really sick because I never saw a scene like this. Obviously the two of them don't have to talk lot, too, to communicate.
Again I look down at him and suddenly everything has changed. I always knew that I wouldn't see a "megastar" in him, but what did I expect? A sexy guy? A perfect dad? A skeleton? An angel? A great musician? A sophisticated genius? No, he is nothing of that. Well... or better: maybe he is all of it!
I still cannot make a clear decision but in this moment, I feel like there are these two wings on his back – similar of his appearance in "You are not alone". One of them is beautiful, great, big, and sparkling, but the other one is crippled, small and ill. I know that you won't believe that, but really: I can see them! Without thinking about it I raise my hand and go towards him, but not to the great, sparkling one, no, I move to the little one... to the damaged one. I don't think about it, but I touch it as carefully as I can. I haven’t even come near to Michaels back, but he looks up without letting go his daughter. His face expresses pain; in his eyes I see invisible agony. But he bears it and I bear it - still having no idea what I do actually. And after a few seconds the tension disassociates. His face subtly relaxes, a bleeding glimmer in his eyes heals and this damaged wing which has suffered so much pain brightens up a little bit. Under the gristly sensation I can feel the golden dust of a butterfly-wing.
Michael still looks at me as Paris wants to draw the attention on her again: "Daddy, come on, I would like to show you something!"
But she doesn’t pull him straight away with her like many children would do, no; she waits in front of him until he gets up. And then I feel like someone catapults me miles back as the second great wing spread out powerfully and lifts up Michael on his legs effortlessly. I think in this minute I was allowed to have a look behind the secret of his weightless dance...
Paris leads him to the other children who are happily playing and screaming on the sunny balcony. I recognize that Michael immediately has entered another world, but still his eyes ask me to accompany him. I am astonished that he didn't forget me, and it makes me proud and very honoured.
"We have hidden a treasure and you have to search it!" Paris really seems to be the leader of these little 'pirates'. Her formerly read corduroys and the yellow shirt are dirty, but this disturbs no one. Everybody (including her brother and daddy) follows her.
"Do you like children?" I hear Michael's voice.
I didn't recognize that I was able to come so close to him! But the children aren't that crazy of being near to him - they are happy just to be there. I hear the threatening sizzle behind me as his mega-wing cuts the air again and again and makes Michael's movements nearly weightless. No symptom of exhaustion. Great - and I am already breathless! How unfair... But I have to ask myself how the feeling would be if this wing once slaps you – a not-existing wing that I can touch and see, though and which makes so much wind that my hair flies wildly...
"Of course, I love children. I’m a babysitter myself." I answer.
"Oh... wonderful." His attention belongs to everything, to me, the children, the landscape - oh yes, the landscape, I knew I had forgotten something...! - and to the ground under his feet.
And so we fool around Neverland for hours. And finally I have realized where I am: this ranch is the most beautiful and most outstanding piece of earth that I have ever seen. Ah... well, haven't I told that in the beginning? Well... anyway... it doesn't matter at all. I can tell you this again and again: well, this ranch is the most beauti.... okay, okay... I don't want to make you even more jealous, and so I will be silent now ;-). I will simply describe it to you: on the one hand it is really Disneyland: Mickey and Minnie run around here, joined by Donald and Daisy, the planting around looks completely like the one in Disneyland. Every single flower, every tree ... everything tries to be as beautiful as possible. Most of them are simply perfect. Anyway... there is a certain kind of atmosphere in the air. I wonder if the landscape is the reason... or its master?
It is beautiful here, breathtaking beautiful. There are no other houses, no neighbours, just the mountains far away... Even the sun seems to shine just for that paradise on earth... Oh yeah - the sun! Michael doesn't seem to care about his sensitive skin. Okay... I have to admit that he is wearing a long-sleeved Shirt and in the meantime (of course) his hat, but there is no mask to see, neither sunglasses. And I am very thankful for that.
Meanwhile I have recognized that the eight or nine kids who came from the main house with us, are not the only children at the ranch. On our way three more groups join us, each one accompanied by two adults. And along the healthy ones, are, like Michael told us so often, disabled and/or sick kids. But nobody seems to be disturbed by these differences. I recognize that one of the caretakers is the bodyguard who picked me up from the airport. He smiles at me when his group joined ours. Okay, I have to admit I feel embarrassed thinking back to the morning but now I feel so much stronger and a power in me like I'd be somehow taller and so I am able to smile back at him...
And the game goes on... I feel like I am a child again and run and play around with the kids, so that I have no time to observe Michael. In recognising that I decide to look at him a bit and I notice that this "superstar" has lots of fun here. He jumps around like a kangaroo, rolls himself on the grass surrounded by a screaming and giggling bulk of kids throwing water balloons at him. He tries to defend himself, chuckling loudly - but everyone knows: he has no chance. "It never rains, but it pours" - this is an old, wise line, - because now the kids and bodyguards start to bomb Michael not only with water balloons but also shoot at him with super-soakers and hoses. One group is occupied with making the water balloons, another one does the 'shooting' and a third one attacks with super-soakers. The bodyguards know exactly how to bring Michael in an underprivileged situation: they simply refuse him access to the water-sources. An unfair way to play, but pretty funny ;-)! Within a few seconds, Michael is completely wet. So Michael changes his strategy from offensive to retreat. In his attempts to get out of the way of his opponents he's doing quite well. No miracle... his wings are so fascinating - both of them do their best to help him out of this situation. Okay, the bigger one does most of the work, but also the little and sick one is suddenly full of life and power. It flatters cheerfully and hectically, and now and then it crosses the huge one's way - so that the 'giant' has to react very quickly. And these are the moments when Michael looses his balance a bit and stumbles. But no one recognizes that. Just me. Only one time Michael falls lengthwise to the ground. Everybody laughs.
"Mike, may I help you?" I shout over to him.
"Yes... stop the water!!" He giggles.
As I run to turn the water off, the bodyguard follows me, shaking his head with a big grin. Playfully we fight against each other.
"Florian!... You shouldn't ... fight with my guests... all the time!" Michael gasps, breathless from chuckling. "Peace, please... I... I... give up! You won!!"
Now I understand. If he cannot win... he capitulates. Tsss... who had ever thought of that? Michael kneels down and raises his hands up. And if someone says that children can be cruel – that’s right. Some of them continue throwing water balloons at Michael - but the others stop immediately and finally there is peace. Great - the world would obviously regulate itself if we'd just let the space for that.
Florian and I stand up - over and over full of dirt. Okay... he stands up and reaches out his hand for me to help me.
"You have incredible hair..." he murmurs admiringly - and blushes a little.
"Thank you..." I reply, embarrassed as well. And suddenly I see that my long hair is completely messy. By thinking of the procedure of styling them afterwards I get a headache.
We go towards Michael again, but he points to the house.
"I need a shower..." he murmurs. And I totally agree with him.
The kids reach the house long time before we do! They make the impression to never get tired of playing around here at this beautiful place. We follow them more slowly. Now Michael limps almost imperceptible, and I wonder if the wings could be the reason. The small one has completely stopped moving, the big one goes slowly, but still unbelievable graceful.
Michael, known as the man who doesn't say much, looks at me and I see pure joy and happiness in his eyes. With this, I have the answer to my unanswered question this morning. Of course he is fine! How could one be unhappy here, in this fantastic place? He looks like he knew what I was thinking about and smiles quietly, but he won’t get away that easy. Because I have the feeling that he hides the other part of the answer. And I am sure that this other part exists.
In this moment when I recognize that I really understood him, I feel like I'd grow a few centimetres. I'm not a tiny little girl. And I'm not silly. It makes me proud that I can keep my strength even in his presence. And I slightly feel like I'd start to build little wings by myself.
Silently we walk side by side. Perhaps Michael is the only one with whom silence is no problem. I can see that his hair is wet, his shirt and his trousers are dirty, but he doesn't care. No one cares. I ask myself what the press would say in their headlines if they caught him like this. But when I look around, there is only nature, the sun, animals and four silent people walking cautiously side by side, being watchful not to tread down a flower - and suddenly I understand that this problem doesn't exist here. Press? Paparazzi? That simply is no part of this world. And I cannot even imagine that I have been there previously, in this other reality, which now seems so far away - and so endlessly cruel.
I feel his eyes on me so I look at him. This 'deer'- who could say it differently - looks at me attentively and deliberate at the same time. "This is my world, and this is me," his eyes tell me.
I cannot explain my feelings in this moment. I am so honoured, so excited and so vulnerable, I feel I need more, I cannot explain it, but I feel I HAVE to take him in my arms. I am so puzzled, so happy and calm all at the same time. Hey... actually kind of the feeling you might have after a good joint. Well, maybe he is my drug.
Fortunately I do have not much time to think about all of it. We just arrived at the house which I can now recognize in its whole splendour.
"Of course you stay until tomorrow." Michael states as if we had arranged that weeks ago. It's not a question, for that it sounds much too authoritarian. But I wouldn't even think of refusing this offer! I can live quite well without my odd hotel room in Los Angeles - and now the butterflies are here again.
Some minutes later 'Christine' leads me into the upper rooms of the house. She presents me a room which is unbelievable. Not a single five star hotel could ever afford such luxury. It is huge with a table, chairs, sofas, a huge four-poster ... simply beautiful. Of course there is a bathroom too.
"There are clothes for you in the cupboard, towels are in the bathroom... of course." Christine smiles.
Her eyes (they are black, too) are looking at me for a while. I feel her look going straight into my heart, but I don't mind. It's a warm feeling. Well, I always wanted to ask her who she was, what’s her name "in the real world" and how it feels to work for Michael. But I
simply don't dare to. She radiates a somehow wise silence; just a view of her is enough to feel embraced. Somehow I see parallels to Karen Faye. And I admire Michael more and more for what and who he is, and how he affects the people around him. No, this cannot be an ordinary singer with a lot of money! Never. And someone who says anything against it is as sick as two short planks - or simply cannot imagine all of this - well… and I would even understand that somehow.
I enjoy myself and every single minute in this bathroom. The shower is three times larger than at my home and this Whirlpool... mmmh... I think I have to try it later! Or should I take a quick bath? Uhm... a gaze onto my watch. No... I have to meet Michael in half an hour!
And I have to be on time. Well, I am on time! Okay... more or less. But if you would have my hair and YOU would have to style it - well... then you wouldn't wonder why I'm five... or ten minutes too late.
But since I don’t want to be without Michael longer than necessary and this windy weather perfectly replaces any fan… uumm... what did I want to say? Anyway: I'm speeding down the stairs towards the porch where Michael is... of course NOT there. To make a long story short: he shows up one and a half hour too late!!!
Meanwhile I take a long walk through the park and even find the zoo. I could spend my lifetime there because the animals in here are... so exotic – no, that's not the right word - they are unbelievable. And believe it or not – even though my English became better over the day, those animals here also seem to speak – or better understand – German, too! At least this three inches high giraffe which lowers her head and looks at me somehow compassionately with this ‘hi-who-are-you-midget’-look: ‘is-this-good-watered-cabbage-on-your-head-also-eatable’? Quickly I explain to her that this ‘cabbage’ is my hair and that this hair is nothing for a giraffe!! A little bit confused she turns away - ignores me completely and concentrates herself to a "delicious" tree...
Suddenly the cell-phone Christine gave me rings loudly. I hardly can believe that it's Michael himself who talks to me! His voice makes my knees turning into jelly and every single animal stares at me with a mix of sympathy and amusement.
"I cannot go outside anymore as long as the sun burns that much…" Michael quietly explains. "Later we will go in the park again, but I suggest we should eat something first."
As fast as I can I run back to the house. Only when I see one of the gardeners I abruptly slow down and pretend to have a nice walk through the park. But turning around the next corner I start running again, as fast as my short legs are able to!!
When I enter the dining room - it strongly remembers me to the huge hall in Hogwarts - Michael is the first one I recognize. Well... okay... that's nothing really new. He has this special appearance. Where he is even the air crackles a bit - completely different to everything one would expect. So it is tonight. With a small gesture he invites me to take the seat at his side but in his face, there is something that puzzles me. I feel a little bit sadness.
"What's the matter?" I ask quietly and for the first time I speak to him as a friend.
"Nothing... I... It’s just…" Unhappily he stares down on his plate and he looks more human than ever. I don't recognize that I put my hand on his shoulder and touch him for a moment.
"... Uum... it was just a telephone call ... a business matter..." he murmurs and tries to smile but his eyes tell me everything I have to know.
’Strange thing...’ I think...’He's so easy to understand! Why can't other people?’ But then I memorize that the people who meet him mostly do understand him perfectly - well... but so many others have problems.
"Just give me a few minutes... It'll be better soon..." he concludes and takes a deep breath.
I have this feeling, that I would like to lay my head on his shoulder to give him strength and safety but somehow I cannot. And in this moment I see how Christine, who sits to his right, takes his hand and strokes it softly.
’Well...well... so I was right!’ I think. ‘There must be something between the two... ‘But I am not jealous. I am happy that she is here for him. I wouldn’t have been able to do that.
Then we eat. And soon there’s no difference between today afternoon and after the phone call anymore. Michael seems to be completely recovered. His eyes are bright; he laughs and chuckles like there would be no morning. By the way: I notice that he eats quite a lot! Though many fans believe his meals are restricted to one sheet of salad - today he eats enough and as a dessert also a lot of cheese and ... of course, sweets.
As the big boss suggested we go to the park after dinner. Now there are not as many children as there’ve been in the afternoon ‘cause most of them already left the ranch. In the meantime it has gotten dark and there are just about ten kids and now five adults who enjoy their time.
But when I have a few calm minutes I look over to Michael and Prince who are on a wild carousel. Both of them chuckle like crazy and in this moment I recognize how lonely this life has to be. I think back to several amusement-parks that I have visited until now. Okay... maybe they were not as great as here but... when I think of the huge amount of people who were there… and here... how many are with us now? I mean in those locations there WERE at least people; here isn't one single chewing-gum on the ground, not one smoked cigarette… and if I would start to dance a waltz - would that even been seen by a passenger? It's just our little group who has fun. Scary!!
Honestly... I'm already a bit bored after just an hour but Michael obviously is completely happy! He plays and laughs and laughs and plays und... suddenly I am enthusiastic too again though I can clearly see that he is trapped by this joy – which supposedly is one of only a few.
Anyway the boxcar-races are so much fun that I don’t realize how time goes by. There is always one adult and one child in a car and we cheat and laugh like we were completely nuts. Since there are more children than adults we are very... busy. But after thirty minutes I give up... my head hurts. Michael - who else? - proves that he is the "king of parks". He keeps on driving so wild that I feel sick in my stomach - and that by just watching him. His red shirt is great - I can follow him everywhere. He doesn't wear a hat any more and his hair is suddenly completely different, much ... shorter and curlier than in the afternoon. If I am not very much mistaken he put away a wig and those now is his real hair. But I feel kind of embarrassed just by thinking over it...
"Okay, okay!" Michael finally shouts. "Enough for today..."
And everybody agrees. We all gather, and then we walk slowly over to the ice-cream man... Mmhhh... I can tell you, a dream!! Well, but I am kind of puzzled that not all of the kids want to have ice-cream, for example Paris. She just stops at her daddy’s side and looks well-behaved and a bit shy.
"Are you okay, princess?" Michael asks concerned.
She nods and smiles brightly at him and I understand that his kids exactly know what they want - and know what they don't want - or need. They already act responsible. And Michael understands this answer as well. He kisses her and Prince on the cheek and waits until everyone else gets the ice-cream he wants. Michael himself doesn't take ice-cream as well. But I do!! Hey, come on, you would do the same, wouldn't you?
Now I am really noisy what Michael Jackson’s kids know about the world. But of course I would never want to pump them but... just being able to talk to them one time. Maybe it's the one and only chance in my life. And after a few minutes I walk along with prince. In his right hand he holds his ice-cream, and with the other one he grabs immediately for my hand.
"Where do you come from?" he says and looks at me through the eyes of his dad. For Prince it seems normal that in his home are always different people from all countries over the world.
"From Germany. That's in Europe. You have to fly over the big sea..." I say smiling.
"I know..." he answers firmly, "I have been there already."
"I'm sure you have…" I am almost speechless. How could I forget? I remember all the videos, for example from Michael with Prince in Munich in the circus, at the window in the hotel room, and on Skipper’s arm...
"Are the people nice where you live?" he asks, though I was the one who wanted to ask him questions!
"Well... most of them. But there are a few who are not as nice as the others..."
“And those aren’t nice to daddy?"
"Ohhh..." Oh boy... why me?! "You know, there are a many people who don't know your dad, and there are times... well, sometimes they think strange things of him."
"Do they say he’s ugly?" Prince continues babbling lively.
"Uuh..." I look over to Michael who walks dangerously near by us and scrutinizes me through the darkness. The white in his big eyes sparkles, on his face the shadows of the torches are dancing which lightens us the way back to the house. It's impossible for me to answer and I don't dare to take a look at Michael’s wings because I can imagine the sick one now flatters sadly and slowly.
"Well... do they say that Daddy is ugly?" Prince urges anew.
"Yes... some people say that..." Somehow I can manage it to not look away from Michael while saying this. Miraculously I can't see anything in his face changing but ... tschhhhhhhhhh - I feel how a gust straightens my back up as contrary to all expectations the big wing cuts the night like a sword. After that Michael lowers his chin a bit and then also his look. And I am at the end of my nerves.
Now I have enough from chatting with Prince - who knows what questions I am expected to answer?! So I slow down my walk and follow the others with a little distance for a while. Suddenly I feel Florian’s hand on my shoulder.
"Are you alright?" he asks smiling.
"Yes, yes..." I insure, and he walks on.
When we arrive all the lights are turned on in the house. Somehow it seems to me like I the continuation of the park. It’s the perfect harmony between everything here. But now the kids are really tired. Well, most of them... without any protest they go into their rooms.
"I'll bring Prince and Paris to bed. Would you like to watch TV afterwards?" Michael asks us - us, well, that means a couple, a thirteen year old boy (HELP - typical Michael-Jackson-age, parents: take care of your children!) - but I think he belongs to the two of them - and me.
We nod, and Michael turns around to lead his children up into their rooms. Nearly upstairs he stops, looks at me and with a tiny gesture he invites me to join them. I hesitate but then I follow him. It seems to be right, he really wants that I bring the children to bed with him. And again I grow for at least three centimetres.
I assist Paris to dress in her sweet pyjama and brush her teeth. Michael cares very much that his children wash themselves thoroughly, but he makes it easy for them. He laughs and jokes all the time. And WHAT jokes he makes. His humour is unbelievable. There are not even five minutes in which I wouldn’t burst laughing!
"You are so unbelievable, Michael." I finally giggle.
Suddenly he is getting serious.
"Why? How do the fans think I am?" He grins a bit.
"Oh! That's difficult to say. It's so different..." I think it over for a while. "…Well, sometimes I have the feeling they speak of different people." I laugh.
"Really? That's very interesting..." He seems to be deep in thoughts. "What do you think? Where does this come from?"
"I have no idea..." I shrug my shoulders.
„And what did you think how I am?” Once again he kisses his children and then we approach the door, switching off the lights and step into the corridor. That provides me some time to think about my answer.
Now Michael looks at me again with this great kind of attention which I didn’t recognize at him before. But how could I? Me, a fan, just seeing him on TV with sun-glasses and in public, but never in private life.
"Well...?" Now he is really serious.
"Oh boy, that's such a difficult question, Michael. I mean, what am I supposed to tell you? I have imagined you the way I've met you today, well... just...maybe..." I simply don't know how to tell him what I feel, or what I see - or should I begin to talk about wings by now??
"Maybe I haven't thought you could have such a normal life here in your own world. That you are so free... in your own special way."
He looks at me calmly:
"I never lived in this world that you know."
"That's not true, Michael! Of course you have... In former times, in Gary, then Motown, all the tours, all the places you have seen in the world. Come on, you know the whole world."
Slowly he shakes his head staring at the wall and with that probably into the past for one moment.
"My childhood is far away. I have no memories about it. And concerning the tours and all the stuff... this is something completely different."
His eyes make me go mad, now for sure!!!
"Michael, may I take you in my arms... please?" I don't mind, that this sounds so... fan-like. I simply have to hug him.
He doesn't respond anything but steps forward and somehow he suddenly opens himself much more. I lay my arms around him and he embraces me compassionately. I feel he needs this hug as much as I do, and I can feel his head on my shoulder. I know instinctively that I am not allowed to hold him closer because this would just scare him. But I would never want to do that - see: china porcelain is fragile and I’m holding both, Meissner and Rosenthal, in my arms…
A long time we stand there, tears running over my cheeks. Tears of joy and pain at the same time. Because in his joy is so much pain - this is what I have learned now and it was never so obviously to me like in this moment.
It takes some time until I can feel him in his physical appearance. I feel the warmth of his skin under his soft shirt, I feel his hard back (seems to be just bones and skin) and I have the feeling that I'm holding a child, because he is just a tall as I am, although he is much thinner and somehow "smaller" than me. Damned, and he is a man. I feel his hair on my cheek, and really, they don't feel soft - they feel rather hard and bristly. They’re neither stick-straight nor curly but something between that and from their structure somehow unhealthy. But what in the world could be more unimportant? He smells wonderful and has this aura of magic. So warm and so soft.
After hours (for me) he moves his head and I let him go carefully. Furtively I wipe away the tears from my face - and I'm sure, never ever before someone has looked at me more thankfully as he does in this moment.
"What... what more could I give you, Michael? What do you need?" I whisper.
"More?" He looks at me without understanding. "Why more? You have already given me so much..."
I cannot respond anything; I just can follow him downstairs to the living room. We meet the others there but Michael doesn't want to stay here - he wants to have some rest and to lay down somewhere while watching TV.
To make a long story short: we all go upstairs in another room, which I don’t suppose to be Michael’s personal sleeping-room. The room makes me chuckle a little. I have to describe it to you, okay? If you enter it, the first thing you see is a huge TV-set with flat screen that is as big as half of the wall. Your first thought is: Is this a cinema? Well, but there are no seats, just two huge, huge beds, four or five metres each, on the opposite wall. There’s also a huge table in the room, and on this table... whoooow... all sweets and drinks, everything you can imagine!!! A paradise on earth... Uuumm... and there are a few chairs, too. Every single one of them really huge – at least two people can find place in one of them... or three-and-a-half Michael Jackson’s.
Well... now everybody looks for a seat. Michael simply lays down in one of the two beds - the boy next to him. The couple takes the other bed - and me... I feel a little bit uncomfortable but as ‘Christine’ enters the room and sits down in one of the great chairs - I simply do the same.
"Wasn't Flo about to join us?" Michael asks.
"No, he already went to sleep..." Christine murmurs.
"Hmm..." is everything Michael says - immediately he is involved in a little discussion about the film we should watch tonight. Michael wins - and we watch "Monster unlimited". This one I like very much and so I am even more satisfied as I was before – if imaginably.
I have never dreamt that the atmosphere in Michael Jackson's home could be so normal. Everybody reaches for foot and drinks when he or she wants something, Michael and his friend have so much fun, they simply put the quilts away, burrowing themselves into tons of pillows. They throw sweets at themselves and at us and laugh all the time. Well, I think I would have the right to be a little bit jealous - but... hey... I don’t feel this way at all!
The couple, the parents of the boy, are much calmer. They hold their hands and enjoy the time. Completely relaxed Christine drinks some juice and from time to time she leafs though some magazines which she brought with her.
Like everyone else I have thrown my shoes in a corner of the room and I feel so at home that I put my feet on the other chair and even ask Michael to give me another pillow – of course he throws it as me...
Suddenly I startle. Oh boy... did I sleep?
?? I look around in the room and see that the lights are dimmed and that no more monsters are on the screen, but some old b/w cartoons without tone. It is silent in the room. The couple has disappeared when their son fell asleep... I suppose. I cannot see him, because he is hidden under one of the three blankets. Christine lay down on the other bed - and seems to be asleep, too. Michael, still the boss, doesn't sleep - I would bet! And I would win. He has closed his eyes but his wings still flatter, so he cannot be asleep at all. It's like I could see the thoughts running through his mind like they do in everyone’s head before you finally start to dream...
I don't move and try hard not to make any noise. I never would dare to disturb this moment of magic. Really, this night is pure magic, but of course I cannot take my eyes away from Michael. I mean, come on…!
So I still stare at him while he falls asleep. The wings move more and more slowly and finally they fold like the wings of a beautiful, proud swan on his back. And Michael lowers his head so that his face hides half behind the tip of the big one. Then everything is completely calm and peaceful. Unbelievable. But... the whole day has been already unbelievable.
I try to make it cosy for me in this great chair in which I feel much more comfortable than in my bed at home. For a moment I ask myself where the blanket came from but I decide not to think about it any more. Just magic...
I awake when suddenly wind touches my face. I don't know the time. Immediately I look at Michael. His wings beat wildly. To look at this scene makes me quite nervous and frightens me a bit. I have to ask myself what the hell would happen if one gets a hit by these wings. But Michael still seems to be in a deep sleep what makes the whole thing even stranger to me. Because - what if he cannot control himself, or better, the wings, now? Strange thing: the boy next to Michael doesn't seem to recognize anything.
Well, therefore he may be too far away on the other side of the huge bed. Or he simply doesn't have the right sense for seeing and feeling wings. Well, I guess I should be careful with my statements because I cannot remember having been able to see wings before that special day as well! Could also be as well that I don't have a special ability but just too much fantasy ... or that I am completely mad and hallucinating... but I really would like to avoid psychiatry!
"What's the matter with him?" I whisper.
"He is dreaming..." she answers.
"It doesn't seem to be very... uum... nice?!" Trying to make no noise at all, I stand up and fight myself through to Christine’s bed. It’s not easy at all because the wings literally cause something like a storm in the room. I sit down at her side.
Michael murmurs something, but we cannot understand him. I feel so sad about this little wing which seems not to have any power at all, but shivers and fights out of desperation.
"To me this looks like a nightmare! ... Is he afraid of something?"... I do not have the slightest idea why I ask Christine.
She sighs.
"IF he is frightened, then... well... it could be because of his father or..." She looks at me, then gives me a piece of her blanket "... Uum... he is worried about Elizabeth at the moment..."
Doubtfully I look at her:
"Yes, I can understand the thing with Liz, but... his father? Now? At the age of 45? I can't believe this!"
"But it's the truth…" Christine shakes her head and looks somewhere down to her feet. "It will never be different. He has hurt him so much. Michael will always fight for... for control, you know."
I don't know what to say and stare at Michael. I have to look twice, but my eyes don't fool me. The big wing is smaller than before. He has lost some of his brightness and power. Michael restlessly clings to his pillow.
And I am confused now... really confused. Searching for help and orientation I look at Christine. But her forehead lies in deep wrinkles:
"It's the father..." she murmurs and shakes her head. "Always the father..."
I can see how she presses her lips together angrily.
"Do you know this for sure?"
"Liz Taylor wouldn't ever influence his wings."
Now I know two things for sure. First: I am no psycho, and second: in this house and in this world many, many things differ from other houses and other worlds.
"So... help him!!" I beg. And I think I have already had some thoughts too much about Christine and Michael as for I don't know how stupid that must sound. Or maybe I am just frightened that he looses his wings completely.
"He doesn't need my help. He is strong enough. He can help himself."
"Really great! But how can you just watch him suffering like that?" I snarl at her.
"Of course not...But maybe it's your turn today..." Christine smiles, a mixture of embarrassment and loveliness.
"Me???"
"Yes, you! This is your special day..."
"And how?" I guess, I feel a bit uncomfortable now. Although I always thought, that there wouldn't be a problem! That you could simply go to him and... and what!?
"Hey, don't ask me..." Christine smiles warmly. "What’s the first thing you think of when you hear ‘Michael Jackson’?"
"Love." I say immediately.
"That's the solution then, isn't it?"
"Could be... But..."
"Just do what you feel. Believe in yourself, that's the thing... you have to trust yourself, because I think, you have more trust in him than in yourself, could that be?”
I don't answer. I cannot answer this question. Okay, well, then I'm on my own this time. But my wish to help him is so much bigger than all my fears and insecurities. I hardly recognize that I stand up and walk over to him. The big wing shrinks more and more - and I even think I can hear Michael cry silently - but therefore it beats just more, and more aggressively. I hold still for one moment, hesitating. If this wing hits me, it'll kill me, that's for sure.
"Do you love him?" I hear Christine's voice.
"Yes." I take a further step and see how the wing rushes down on me like a ton of bricks
‘I love you Michael.’ That's the only thought in my head. I close my eyes, and wait for the pain but instead I’m showered with a warm, soothing feeling, a tingling like soft and liquid raindrops of gold as the wing goes right through my body without any resistance. This is how you must feel in the middle of a loving meeting with Michael’s consciousness… Well, actually I could stay in this feeling for the rest of my life, just never ever let it go. But I won't give in this sweet seduction because my mission is another one!
Instinctively I grab for the still wildly turning big wing. It's not easy to touch it but the moment I caught it, it holds still. I shiver and jerk, but I have this wonderful feeling like he’d trust me... To catch the little one is no problem at all because he doesn't have many possibilities to draw back...
And so I’m standing there, feeling completely nuts by holding two invisible wings in my hands.
But for me they are reality. I close my eyes, the only thing I can do is to try to submit force and love to them - my force and love. My god... I feel so silly! And more than that, I feel so damn helpless. I mean this is nothing, isn’t it? What more could I do?
I open my eyes to look at Christine if she could help me when I suddenly stare at one now again really big wing! It looks so beautiful, more beautiful than it ever has been! It looks like having been dipped into a sack full of golden dust. Although it still shivers in my hand I feel that it does so in growing and gaining strength and power again.
I cannot believe my eyes. And suddenly I understand what a strong will and believe in yourself means and what it can cause. I look to my other hand which holds the small wing. This one tries to stretch out its crippled joint and it even succeeds a bit. I guess this is a time to be proud - and when I look at Christine, her smile shows this very expression. But I simply cannot be proud because I am fulfilled with love. There is no space for any other feeling inside of me. And I am not quite sure if this is only my love that I'm feeling, or if it is Michael’s too which is streaming back into me. It’s like giving and taking at the same time.
So I stand there and look at the wing with gets back its used seize and pride – maybe even a little more. And when I finally I look down at Michaels face, I can see freedom there and a soft and relaxed smile – a moment when tears stream into my eyes.
"Was this me?" I stumble crying.
"Yes... sure!" Christine answers and laughs.
I put my hands back - which are hot as never before at the moment – and I can hear the flattering of the wings. As a swan would do they ruffle their feathers and then lay them down on Michael’s back. Then everything is silent.
I just keep on staring and crying, but then I feel Christine’s Arm around my shoulders: "Come on, let's go for a walk” she whispers, and I am happy that I can follow her. Certain things are just too much.
For a long time we wander across Neverland. It's a warm night like most of the time, as Christine tells me. She tells me many things in this night, about Neverland, about Michael, this life out here and about... well, everything... But when I ask her, about her and Michael, she just smiles and says:
"Let fantasy be fantasy, okay? And by the way, it's not important. Just one thing is for sure, if I didn’t love him, I wouldn't be here..."
After a while she continues:
"Look, there is just one important thing. Michael is like a peacock, his feathering lives from our love. It lives from my love, from yours, the love of his fans, friends, children, and employees – everybody around him. Then he presents his wings in shining, bright colours. You have seen how strong he gets through our love, and how weak he is if there is hate and ignorance. Many people hurt him and he looses power, but through the love of us all - his power returns. That's him. That’s his secret. And believe me, just the same way he can give – or fight - back!” She laughs mysteriously.
I think, I understood.
When we return to the house the sun is already rising. We take a quick look in Michael’s bedroom, but he is still asleep and so we decide to go in the kitchen for making breakfast - and we have all the fun in the world doing this.
Then Michael joins us. He obviously had a shower and his make-up is well done. He looks at me for a while, with this special smile that is there but you can hardly see it. And I can't believe his beauty. It seems to run out of every fibre of his body.
We have breakfast together, but I’ll have to leave soon - my departure is in the afternoon. I think I have to die, as I really, really notice that I have to say good-bye to him. In the meantime more busses with kids have arrived, and the ranch is full of new life - a new day has begun. But mine was yesterday...
First of all I say good-bye to Christine. She lays a hand on my shoulder and whispers:
"Stay as you are..."
Then Michael accompanies me to the car. A long way and there’s no one but the two of us. I want to say a thousand things but again I feel that nothing would match the moment. So, after a while it is Michael who starts talking.
"Thank you..." He first looks on the floor and then straight in my eyes. "I wished all fans would be as you are. I ... I have always hoped, that they would ... would use the moment, you know? And that they wouldn't just run around me telling me the lines they learned... you didn't do that. You are a great person. ... and... you have so wonderful wings." He smiles. "Yet a bit small ... but they are growing every day."
Despite of my astonishment I can see admiration in his eyes, not jealousy but somehow pride. Great, and I haven't ever known that I HAVE wings until now. But I know as well that it would look quite funny if I now tried to turn around looking for the wings on my own back!
“Thank you... But Michael ... what has happened to your wing?"
"Why?" he looks kind of confused and stares at me restlessly.
"Well, because one is so ... tiny and..." I can't find the right word. "So... uuhmm… sad..."... a moment in which I feel kind of... really idiotic.
"But..." Michael stands still and sadly looks down, "I've been born like this..."
WHAT? I stare at him and can't believe my ears. Damned, and me, the greatest idiot on earth, must have thought somehow that he has to be perfect. Or... well, at least has been once. But his embarrassment and insecurity lets me feel like I am the last person in the world.
"... I cannot remember that it has ever been different..."
"Oh, Michael, it's okay!" I just take him in my arms, this time without asking.
"It is ugly, isn't it?" he murmurs.
I hear a kind of crash, and as I take a look over his shoulder I can see the bigger wing hanging down flat and still on the ground.
"It is perfect!! Michael, it's yours, and so it IS perfect!! God, I am so sorry, it's just that I... I thought... that someone must have hurt it... or something like that... THAT would be horrible!! Not the fact that it’s not that big…."
With a certain release I see the big one moving again and gingerly pull itself together.
Michael cautiously pushes me back a little and scrutinizes me deeply:
"That's not possible though. Wings are always as they are. Okay, they can get smaller and bigger, or stronger and weaker from time to time... but... I mean... nobody from the outside can mutilate them so easily."
"No? ... I'm sorry, I didn't know this..." Of course, now I am the one who is totally embarrassed because I have NO idea at all for those things!
"No... They can be hurt and that's terrible... but you can't break them."
His view hold me tight like a spider keeps its victim in the net, but this is a net out of which I really don’t want to escape.
"And you always have to be careful with your wings. Promise me that, please... There are lots of people in the world and they will try to hurt your wings. But do everything to prevent that! You know..." He smiles a bit. "There are people you have to tell that they should take care of their body, because of drugs and things. But you are far above that. This would be too easy. You should look after your wings. Take care of them well ‘cause they’re the most important thing you’ve got. That's my wish for your birthday... may your flights always be safe. Because if they’re not, the pain is horrible."
I think what I saw in the night probably have been just a little impression of his experiences.
"In your life, always search for the things that make them strong. Let them grow and let them get so big that they can defend themselves if there is the need to. THIS is the secret of our wings..."
"Oh God, Michael, I don't want to leave. I want to stay with you!" I just blasted it out although I didn't want him to know about my feelings. But I can't do anything against it - and against the tears in my eyes.
"Why 'leave'?" he asks, and he looks so puzzled that I am puzzled as well.
"Why 'leave'?" I can’t keep me from laughing, "Look, over there is a car! It will take me to the airport and the plane will take me away from you."
I start to cry and really wish I could hide somewhere.
"But these are just miles. That's nothing. In here..." he touches his heart, "we will always be together. And the most beautiful thing is..." he smiles impishly, "nothing can part us - whether it is day or night, summer or winter... it doesn't matter at all. It's a special power that connects us and makes us soul mates, and, you know what I mean..."
These words made it possible for me to go to the car and leave him. I can still see him standing there, waving, in his magical world, in his Neverland...
But I know that this wave is not a good-bye. And I know that what he said on this special day – the most special day in my life – was openhearted and meant honestly. Since then I am always with him, even more intense than ever before.
Since that time I always take care of my wings. And always when I see him somewhere out in the world I look for his. My God, you won't believe how greatly you can watch them – they are exactly the same way, dynamic, flexible and sensitive, just as wonderful as he is. Because they’re wings of love.
LOVE