Day 9: Someone I wish I could meet

There are so many people I wish I could meet, like Obama, George W., Angelina Jolie, Nicolas Cage, Tom Hanks, my aunt Kathy, the Queen of England, my old penpal from Egypt, countless scholars and authors whose work I admire and minds I wish to probe. Instead, I want to act like a thirteen year old girl and write to the person who I feel has had most influence over my life in the last two years.

Dear Sara Quin (and, yes, you are sort of included in here as well, Tegan),

There are so many things I want to ask you, tell you. I wouldn't say I am a crazy, I wouldn't say I am obsessed or think we are soul mates, and in full disclosure, despite all of the shows I have gone to, I have never tried to meet you for fear I won't like you and it will screw up my love for your music. Your music is the only thing that got me through my first real heartbreak, through the first stages of exploring my sexuality, through the perilous waters of flirting and first dates. I can't thank you enough for writing from your soul in such a way that it feels as if you were taking words from my own and giving them life.

You never leave anything in the dark. As a fan of yours, I know the basics of who you have dated and who you haven't, how you feel about yourself, your family, being single, being 30. Your self depricating humor is endearing, your accent charming, the way you get pissed off with Tegan onstage is amusing and all too reminiscent of my relationships with my siblings. It feels as if every move you make is real, and for that I admire you much more than all these other fake artists with autotuners and stylists.

You are well educated, always thinking, reading, writing. Your taste in books is incredible, your arguments about political issues well thought out. But most of all, you feel. You feel so deeply, are so sensitive, that a look, a phrase can cut you to the core. I have a thick skin; I have dragon scales protecting my heart, and those scales have numbed me. Listening to your music helps me feel all the things I have blocked out. Maybe it makes happy, sad, sick, heartbroken, or miserable, but I am feeling. For a moment I am no longer numb, but a breathing, feeling human being.

For all the times I can't cry when I am supposed to, I know I can listen to your words, your fingers, and experience what it is like to have life inside of me.

Thanks, Sara,

-Tabby