I’d wanted to spend the evening updating my blog with a new album review; I was going to go into Muddy’s room and take something from his collection. But reflecting on his concern for me had made me feel warmer, less self-deprecating. I put on The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, skipping all the way down to the cover of “Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You,” and lay back on my bed, looking at the ceiling, smiling, thinking: I am worthy of concern. Perhaps my dignity wasn’t being pried from me, it was actually being returned. There was a dignity in being cared for, in being fussed over, in being loved.
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