Dear Sweet Prince,

I never met you but I loved you. Not in the way that someone says they love a pair of shoes or their favorite show, I loved YOU. Your person, your aura and your gift. Your first album was released five years before I was born, so I truly never existed in a world without you. My mother listened to you, and passed it on to me. The sound of your voice was imprinted on my core as a toddler. But I didn’t love you simply because I was exposed to your music. Your music spoke to my soul. Your voice, your words, your wisdom, your boundless charm and glamour, your witty attitude, your genius and creativity, your sly smirk and those gorgeous eyes; the beautiful, intense gaze that was uniquely yours. All of it spoke to me.

I listened to your cassettes in my bedroom as a child. I watched Purple Rain when I was probably too young to fully comprehend it; and I don’t care what the critics said about Under the Cherry Moon, it was my favorite, I had it on VHS and I watched it over and over again, just to watch you speak. Somehow through it all I felt like I knew you. For being a small girl who was naive to the ways of grown love, I may not have yet known at all what sex was, but I knew you were dripping with it. That was no question. So I guess I have to thank you for teaching me that as well.

I grew up to play the piano, sing, join a jazz band, and fiddle with a guitar (horribly). You inspired me to try it all. Every artist and song I fell in love with for the rest of my life was because they reminded me of YOU. I loved those tracks that had “that soul”. Anything that reminded me of your brand of gospel, jazz, rock and sensuality was everything that moved me. You're the reason I fell in love with funk and disco. You’re the reason I like groups like Jamiroquai and Steely Dan. And Uptown Funk will forever sound like it’s ripping you off.

But I fear a fell away from you. You were always there, but I didn’t keep up with you. Life took over and I strayed. But I always felt alive and myself and at home when I listened to your music. Mostly your speaking voice. I never want to forget that voice, and I never will. I’ll make sure my son grows up with it as well. You were so much more than a musician to so many of us, and losing you is something many of us will never get over. I never got to see you in concert, and I never got to send you fan mail. I’m so sad that I took for granted that I still had time to show my appreciation. But you are a part of me, you are embedded in my being much deeper than I even realized. You wrote the soundtrack to my spirit, and for that, I will be eternally grateful.

Last night I had a dream about you. It wasn’t exciting, but it seemed to go on for hours. We were spending time together, getting to know one another, hanging out with my family and friends. And in this dream, in my thoughts, the entire time, we both knew that you only had that one night with me, and then you had to go. We talked and laughed and held hands. Just like we were old friends, making the best of the time we had left together. I wanted so badly to meet you, and in a way I feel like I got to. I feel like I got to say goodbye. Like many in the world right now, the shock of suddenly losing you has left me heartbroken. But I sincerely hope there’s a heaven, so that you can feel all the love emanating from Earth being sent up to you. I miss you, and someday I hope to join your party in the afterworld.

Love,

Your Darling Bree