You know, I just didn’t want this one to be an overdose. I knew it was; I knew it as soon as the autopsy was over and no one came out and said words like “heart attack” or “brain aneurysm.” I knew it as soon as the rumor mill started generating stories about save shots and long-term hip problems and addiction specialists. I knew it and I hated it.
I still do.
And I still hoped against all hope that it wasn’t an overdose.
With the toxicology reports in, we now know without a doubt that an accidental overdose killed Prince. It just seems so. . . ordinary. Musicians die of overdoses all the time. Maybe I didn’t want it to be true because of the kind of artist Prince was. He was so intensely creative, so exuberant, so different. Prince was bigger than life, and this news of his death is so damn small. So yeah, even though I knew this was coming, it hurts just a little more than it should. We should be comforted knowing the cause of his death. Instead, I feel like the Universe has done Prince an injustice, making this supernova shooting star all too human with all the accompanying frailties.