I’m already tired of putting up a front. I don’t care how stupid and pathetic I look in the eyes of others. I’ve spent too much of my life worrying about it.
This really is tearing me apart! I miss him! Already I miss him. And I can’t play the music. And I am dreading Aix-Les-Bain. The mere thought of it brings tears to my eyes.
I want to detach my feelings for Jim from the music, but I can’t. He IS Simple Minds. He and Charlie.
And from the earliest point and pretty much all through my fandom, the biggest attachment has been with Jim. All my best memories are linked to him.
From just a few months into my fandom…just a couple of months, I sought to follow the band via social media.
One of the earliest responses I got was…cheekily asking for a birthday wish, not expecting any kind of response…but quietly hoping. Fingers crossed. Nothing more. The request got a like. I was overjoyed. Was it even Jim? Unlikely…there are admins helping out with the running of the page, but at that point, it mattered little. I was happy anyway. A like was as good as actually getting a birthday wish.
I only tentatively posted and commented in the early days. It soon became clear that Jim actually WAS posting on the SMO feed and replying to people’s comments and posts to the visitor wall. I thought that an incredible thing. I still do. To interact with fans like that is wonderful. He really doesn’t have to! He must despair at it, sometimes. But, he must find it as much of an addiction as the rest of us.
And why wouldn’t you? When 95% of what comes in is praise and positive feedback. Anyone would find that encouraging and addictive in equal measure.
The more involved I got, the more addictive it got for me too. At the time, Twitter was my social media outlet of choice…but it became clear that Jim’s was Facebook.
I switched allegiance. Bye bye Twitter! Hello Facebook.
I started to make friends with fellow fans. Tentatively at first, again. I’ve met wonderful people, and have made lasting friendships from it.
But, the main draw card? The reason from switching from Twitter to Facebook? Jim. Always, always Jim.
Again…I don’t care how pathetic it looks or sounds…even to the man himself…I’m human, have a heart, I’m overly emotive…I bleed.
I adore him. For all his foibles, I adore him! We all have foibles. I do too. It’s what makes us human.
I desired to be known in the fandom by him. Cold, stark honesty, here. I wanted him to know me by face and name. To like me. To want to talk to me as much as I did him.
The whole “art” thing. It was spontaneous. It evolved. It wasn’t calculated, or premeditated. It started as a way to express what an amazing lyricist I think he is.
And when I went to Australia towards the end of 2015, I had just gotten myself a couple of photo editing apps that were feature packed. So in the afternoons, when mum was resting, I’d pass the time by playing around.
I won’t drag out the backstory. But it all started innocuously. I wanted Jim to see what his words meant to me. How much I loved them. How much joy and happiness and light they were giving. How much…I love him.
The Hunter And The Hunted one I made, I will always be proud of. It was pretty much perfection. I probably, in all honesty, never bettered it…as much as I strived and still strive to do so. For Jim to show an interest in it…but not only that, to repost it on the main SMO wall and to say he wanted to have it on HIS wall too? It meant everything! Absolutely EVERYTHING. When I awoke that morning in Oz? I was struck dumb. I never thought my heart was going to beat at a normal rhythm EVER AGAIN.
And it continued on. Not just the art, but the interactivity with Jim. And I just…fell in love with him. How could I not? The man is amazing and beautiful. He was making me feel like nobody else had for a very long time. Actually…things no one had EVER made me feel…EVER. Talented, creative, artistic…those feelings were entirely new to me.
Instead of being satisfied though…you want more. More of his attention. More of his time. And I got that too.
I was never really sure if I wanted to meet him…for as much as I adore him, he intimidates me. I feel utterly inferior around him. It is a wounding irony on my post the other day to tell him (rather callously) he isn’t a messiah (“he’s a very naughty boy”…yes, all wonderfully regretful in hindsight) when I feel that way in his presence.
Bridlington was sooo beautiful! To dream of him holding me like that and for it to become REAL. I just wish I’d had the nerve to reciprocate as I had done so in the dream.
The album signing earlier in the year. Those amazing Walk Between Worlds gigs. All of it – ALL OF IT is entangled with my feelings for Jim.
I wanted to be at the front of the crowd at Aix. Show him I was there. Showing my support. Sing (mouth…lip synch…I’m never really singing out loud…only for odd bits) all the songs and have a ball.
But now I don’t want to be at the front. I don’t want to show my face to him. I don’t want him looking at me with scorn. Or worse still…more cutting still…not looking at me at all. Him hating me 🙁
I can’t bear it. I can’t bear to think I have hurt him like that. Maybe I delude myself? Maybe he isn’t hurt? Would you take that action if you didn’t care? I don’t know.
Jim, I adore you, and miss you and I’m in pieces. I miss all the interactivity. Being part of it. Being involved. I love the band, the music. You know this.
I’m sorry I said the things I said to you. I know I should have let it go. Accepted your response to Jane Waller about it. Agreed to disagree with it. Stayed quiet. Dealt with it silently in my own way. Not speak out about it.
I’m sorry.
