Libs and emotions sitting in a tree -- M-I-S-S-I-N-G

"If you ever said you missed me, then don't say you never lied."--Brand New

There are certain words, that when placed together, take on an incredible strength in meaning--and incredible strength in disappointment if said at false moments. "I love you" can often be thrown around, said too early in a relationship, or not said enough. It can turn a beginning relationship into a real relationship. It can be the last words someone says to a loved one before they pass. And it can be the final words someone says to someone before they let them go from their life due to personal decisions. Everyone analyzes these three words "I Love You." But there is one word that you can replace "love" with to create a phrase that becomes just as or even more strong than the first combination of eight letters.

"Miss."

I miss you.

I am not sure I knew the meaning of missing something or someone until only recently. I realized this week that "I miss you" is painfully thrown around similar to the way "I love you" can often times be thrown around.

A night before I left for Italy, a good friend of mine told me that she wouldn't miss me two weeks into my voyage to Italy. She said she probably wouldn't miss me one month into my trip either. I didn't understand, and I was actually extremely saddened by her remarks. That was until Christmas day, when I realized what she meant. Missing someone is a physical feeling--almost like an illness--something that eats at your stomach and your heart and your mind. It is not solely a mental condition--no missing someone is a real emotion, driven by moments that cause us to remember some time, with some person (or on our own) that we really wish we could have at a certain and specific time.

I painfully missed having my family for Christmas. Some days, as of recently, I painfully miss having my friends from New York City and from Pennsylvania to just call on a bad day or sit with and enjoy the silence. When I miss something, as I have learned, I PAINFULLY miss it. It's really simple to get in touch with someone and say "I miss you," because it feels like the right thing to say, but it not always is. "I miss you," like "I love you" could move mountains. It means things are difficult without you here...It means there is a void that I wish you could fill back up.

Missing people is a feeling that you have when there is something you want to share with

someone, so badly, but who most likely is still asleep due to a time difference. Missing someone is wishing they were online to drop a quickly hello to. Missing someone is in the moments that you are walking around and you just wish you could sit down with that person and share a cup of coffee, a window to people watch through, and a fantastically epic long conversation. Missing someone is in moments that you truly feel an emptiness within you. Missing someone or something can actually be debilitating.

To say "I miss you" could have such a strong meaning that it could very well combust the world. When said without truly meaning it, it could actually become more painful to a person than the actual feeling of missing something. To say "I miss you" is to let someone know there is an empty void without that person--that a part of you is incomplete, a part of you is actually...missing.

"Behind this heart, there's 1,000 hearts that keep me on track"

The most intimate concerts often take place in low-lit, hole-in-the-wall bars where you can literally reach out and touch the artist from the furthest point in the bar. These are the types of concerts where you get nervous to take a photo, because you believe that the flash you set off will blind the artist as well as the entire crowd that has squished together. It’s the kind of show where you can stab a line here and there back and forth with the artist—making it feel as though you have created a friendship—a relationship—an affair, for the brief forty-five minute set.

But I’ve found something even better: The kind of show where you sit down with the artist one-on-one, where he or she plays every song that he or she has ever written, and offers you a story behind each one. This is the type of show where you don’t even take photos because you feel such a personal connection between the artist and yourself. You realize quickly that a picture wouldn’t capture the moment as well as the exchange of words, and it’s the type of show where you truly feel like the only person in the room…because…well you are.

And that’s the experience that I had recently, when I got to sit down with friend, singer, and songwriter Paul Knakk, who breaks the standard “1 in 10 songs is a hit” rule and creates an abundance of music that would have overtaken the once highly rated TRL every day. Paul Knakk is a gem.

Never have I had the opportunity to truly sit down with someone and talk about their work—their creative niche—their passion, while watching them really engage in that talent that they have. It truly is a rare and exhilarating moment to see someone smile while they are doing what they love.

Paul and I attended the same high school, but I didn’t really know him until recently. A year younger than me, we never had the same classes, and we didn’t share groups of friends. I had known who he was because of pictures he had posted from when everyone was in middle school, pictures that many people got a really great laugh about when originally posted. About a year ago, Paul and I became Facebook friends, probably because one of us saw that the other had many mutual friends and we went to the same school. Soon after, I learned that Paul was pursuing music. I checked out his videos, his notes, and took the time to listen—and I really enjoyed it.

Unable to make it to one of Paul’s shows in the last year, I formed a friendship with him always discussing the music and what he had planned next. He went on to try out for American Idol this past year where he met many contacts and formed connections that will truly help his music career. The more he talked about his music—his recent show—and the fact that he was going to get a brand new amazing guitar—the more I knew that I had to hear him play live.

So the other day I finally took the opportunity to sit in on a private concert, where Paul played every song he has ever written. Two guitars, two locations, and three and a half hours later, I now knew Paul better than I had known many people that I have been acquainted with for many years. Paul’s music gives sound to his life experiences while also allowing you to connect and feel like the words have been written just for you, like Paul wanted to tell not only his story, but yours too. At most points, during my private show, I had wished that I had a pencil and paper because his lyrics drove thoughts and inspired ideas of my own. His music—his stories—they gave me chills.

Paul’s story is an amazing one that highlights most people’s experiences in adjusting to a world filled with love, hate, and jealousy. What else is amazing about Paul and his musical endeavors? He has self-taught himself, putting together his delicate words with outstanding notes. I would have guessed Paul had been playing for years…but was surprised to learn that he has only really been writing and playing for a year and a half. As Paul and I agreed, there’s nothing that other artists have—that he doesn’t.

Not everyone has the guts to go for their dreams and not everyone has the will to fight for their passions. But after leaving Paul’s house, I realized how important it is that we recognize our talents and the talents of others. Many nights we sit around and fight to find something to do. Should we go get drinks? What about a movie? How about one night where we just sit around with a close friend and experience what makes them happiest...where we just fully experience them. The lights don’t have to be dim, the location doesn’t have to be a hole-in-the-wall, the cameras don’t have to be in hand, and the conversation doesn’t have to be simple…even if it’s a simple night. This is the best kind of concert—this is the best type of night.

For more information on Paul Knakk, I suggest friending him Paulie or by joining his Facebook Group. Once becoming friends with Paul, you can check out his beautiful lyrics in his notes and watch videos of him playing. His YouTube page is currently undergoing maintenance, but you can bet that once it is back up, the volume on his site is going to soar. And at shows…well the girls will be chasing him down, of that I can guarantee. I’m lucky to know and be friends with such a talented musician.