If you could go back in time and have dinner with one famous person from the past, who would you choose? Tell us about your evening.
We would drink whiskey. Single-malt. We’d let it rest on the heavy mahogany table between us. A dimly lit room, reverberating with music from R.E.M. and Jane’s Addiction, and the two of us, enjoying comfortable silences between comparing life’s biggest questions.
I would ask him why. Why, if so able to verbalize the wastefulness of wishing to be someone else, he would, eventually, end his own life? Why, with so much potential, he threw it away?
We’d refill our glasses. And my theories would spark inspiration. He’d grab his Fender and put my thoughts to song. I would listen. And I’d learn about my own life through his words.
He would ask me why. Why I wanted things that were beyond my control. Why I didn’t appreciate where I was, instead of wishing my life away.
And then we’d question which was worse: living the life you wanted but leaving this world early, or sticking around while struggling to reach your potential.