I haven’t been here in awhile, and I feel like a dick.
I wish I had a handful of valid excuses, but I don’t. Only my own vicious black hole of self-loathing. Every day I woke up like “Hey, I’m going to blog today!” And then I sat down, opened the screen and thought “Nope. I don’t have anything to say because I’m just like Kevin Richardson from the Backstreet Boys. Nobody is listening to me anyway.”
I don’t think you need a mental illness to relate to that feeling. I mean, think about it: Kevin was there when BSB began. He was a founding member. Hittin’ stages and makin’ hits. But the truth was, I didn’t know any other fangirl with a Kevin poster. And then in 2006 he was all “I don’t feel like it anymore.” Anyway, let me get to my nub: Sometimes it doesn’t matter how many hours you devote to something that you’re truly good at. Sometimes it doesn’t matter how long you’ve known the people closest to you. You might still feel unnoticed and unappreciated. YOU MIGHT FEEL LIKE A KEVIN.
And I did. Every day. It got to the point where I would see people I knew, and I’d avoid them, because I didn’t want them to ask me what was new. I didn’t want them to ask me to go see The Avengers or grab Starbucks. I didn’t want them to ask me because I felt like a Kevin, and I was worried they might think I was a Kevin, too. People would say things like “You look so great!” And in my head I’d be like “Not as good as Nick, though. I look great FOR BEING KEVIN.” It went on and on and on like that until I’m sure people really didn’t want to hang out with me because I was such an unbelievable killjoy.
But something happened today. Today I woke up and thought about Kevin at length. I considered all points, and I realized that he wasn’t less of a musical talent because Brian stepped in front of him in every video with his long “Ooooooohhhh!” He wasn’t less attractive because he didn’t sport a blonde bowl cut. Kevin was a bang-up guy, and he never should have left. I know everyone will tell me he had his reasons, but I still think that he did it because he was being a whiny bitch, and I stopped blogging for the same reason.
Look. I guess, sometimes, we just feel irrelevant. Like nothing that we say holds any merit. And to 9/10 people, we are probably right. But that doesn’t mean that we should stop talking. Touching one soul. Bringing a smile to one set of lips. Even just one is enough.
There isn’t one fucking thing wrong with being a Kevin. In fact, it’s a mighty good thing to be. Because in 2012, Kevin came back. Kevin was like “Fuck it, I’m going to do what I love.” And that takes heart, which is the most important thing.
P.S. If you didn’t ever listen to BSB (and I know you did,) what I mean is that I’m back. And I will continue on this crusade of useless information because one of you might have actually read this far. Which is impressive and humbling.)