By Jamie Bergen
That time of year again. ***deep sigh***
Twelve years. It’s often said that time heals all wounds, and sometimes that’s true. But in Michael Jackson’s case, it’s not. After all this time, the wounds from his untimely passing are as fresh as they were on that fateful day in 2009.
It’s hard not to be angry. In fact, I never really got past the anger stage of my grief for him. He should still be here, goddammit, watching his children grow into the awesome adults they are, moving into new phases of his career, living his best life.
But I won’t focus on my anger. Not today. I have 364 other days for that.
Instead, I will celebrate his life, his magic, his legacy. I will post on Twitter, avoid the hater trolls and try to be as positive and upbeat as I can (not really me, but I’ll give it a shot).
Continue to rest in power, King.
