Moments with Michael

June 25th

Hey moonwalkers! As you know, it is today nine years since our beloved Michael returned home to heaven. That of course deserves a very special story, about this very day. I tried my best to write something to make you all just a little bit more okay with what happened today, and I hope you can still be happy! Remember, it's all for L.O.V.E!

If you want to, please comment what you think about the story.

It's June 25th 2018. You have been a moonwalker for 11 years, and today is, of course, a day filled with sadness for you and the rest of the MJ-family all over the world. You are 23 years old.

"Love lives forever" I whisper, as I read out loud from the computer-screen in front of me. The final scenes of the film I always watch on this day, Michael Jacksons This Is It, goes over the screen. I find myself staring at him as he stands there, frozen in a picture beside the words.

He looks like an angel, I think to myself. Well, maybe he is. At least now.

I have spent the whole day as good as possible. I cleaned my apartment, I helped the old lady next door bake cookies for her grandson, I even walked my own granddads old dog. I did everything that I know he would approve of. Because I know that Michael wouldn't want me to be sad. He would want a day like this, a day were people remember him and think about him more than usually, to be used to spread his message. He would want me to make a change, to spread the L.O.V.E that he is (no was, I gotta remember that!) all about! I know that, and I have been trying my absolute hardest the whole day. I have tried to be happy, for him and the people around me.

But right now, when I lay in my bed with the credits of the movie rolling over the screen, I can't hold the tears back anymore. Because my angel is gone. The man whose music I grew up with, the man who told me through that music to do good in the world. The man whose singing voice calmed me when I was sad and made me feel happy again, that reminded me that I was not alone, not ever. The man I fell hopelessly in love with, and who I have dreamed about for the past 11 years now.

The man who left earth, nine years ago today.

It breaks my heart every time I think about it, but a small part of me also says that maybe it was the best. Maybe it was better for him to leave a world, that told horrible lies about him and wouldn't believe the truth. A world that had accused him of the worst thing possible, the last thing he would ever do, and even when he was proven innocent, many people still thought he was guilty.

At least now he's home. Now he can walk around in heaven with Jesus, he can be happy and live in a world without sadness. He will never get hurt again.

I shut my eyes tighter. Maybe he will never hurt again, but we will! All of us that he left behind. All his moonwalkers, who love him unconditionally and forever. I talked to a few earlier today, and we all agreed, that we had to be strong. We had to do what he would've wanted us to do. So I did. But now, I'm letting myself have a weak moment.

I grab my pillow, the one with a picture of him on it. I look down at the frozen smile on the picture, and hugs it tightly. The tears fall, as I sob into my pillow.

Let them fall. I have every right to be sad, to mourn him. I think.

As time passes, my crying eventually stops. That's how it is with time, I guess. It stops everything at some point; nothing can be forever in time. I can see the clear night sky outside my window, and the stars are shining brightly. It's almost like the sky itself is sending a tribute to him. To the wonderful man who would look up at the stars and admire their beauty, who would wish at every shooting star that beautiful things would happen. Now the sky is showing it's admiration back.