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She saved my life...

Sun, Jun 24, 2012 at 10:13 PM

Title got your attention, didn't it? Before you start reading, let me clear a few things up so that you're not disappointed: no there wasn't a major action sequence, no there wasn't a climactic battle between good and evil, and no The Avengers weren't involved at all. Also, I should warn you: the story that follows is LONG: I'm a rambler and a writer, so when you combine the two you get...well, what's down below. Now that THAT'S all cleared up, let's get down to business. What follows is a letter that I wrote a few months ago and sent to Taylor Swift (or at least the address I thought would reach Taylor Swift) and is now the first in a series of blogs (written on this very site) none of which are this long, though they sort of feed off of each other (and especially this one). Like the title says, it is a recounting of the story of the day a girl came into my life and saved it with nothing more than words. I hope that maybe it will give you a whole new respect for the artist you all hold dear, and that it will inspire you to be that somebody to somebody else.
Oh, and the surreal part? This story has a sequel (that she doesn't actually appear in)
Enjoy!!!

“Hi, my name is Vince Favetta, and I wanted to congratulate you on all your success”
Remember that opener? Man, I sure do. I mean, come on, of all the thousands of things I could have said, I decided to go with that. You’d figure after spending pretty much all 19 years of my life being the wise-guy in the room, I’d have come up with something a little funnier. A great line, a cheesy bit, maybe even throw in a flower that spurts water, SOMETHING, but nooo.
Now, I’ll bet that you have absolutely no idea of what I’m talking about. At this point, you’re probably reading this letter and thinking, “Ok, wow, this guy needs to get his shots” while your hand moves to place this in a no-doubt large file devoted to your stalkers and other loons that follow you around. Rest assured, I’m no stalker (although I must say, the latest addition to your living room furniture is quite tasteful) although I’ll be the first to admit I am, in fact, a little crazy. After all, I’m typing a letter (as opposed to writing it because my handwriting’s hieroglyphic bad) to a girl who likely doesn’t even remember my face and addressing it to an address I’m not even sure is a real one. But I digress, something that I’ll likely have to do a lot in this letter; I have a tendency to ramble and I’m sort of just typing as if I were talking, but I digress from this digression.
The reason I’ve decided to write this letter is that I want to share with you a story. It’s a totally true story, and it’s one starring you! Well, really me, but you play a big part in it! Granted, you likely have absolutely no recollection of this, so technically I could just make anything up and you wouldn’t know whether or not it was true. Which reminds me, you still owe me $20...Just kidding.
Come to think of it, I have no idea who this letter will actually wind up in the hands of. It could be the intended hands of Taylor Swift, but at the same time it could be the man who decides to open it in the Fordham mailroom looking for a laugh, or it could be the random woman who’s actually at the address I sent it too, or it could be some dude that answers your fan mail to weed out the crazies, in which case I’m pretty much doomed. Regardless, dear reader, whether you’re Taylor or not, I hope you’ll take the time to read this story anyway. Who knows? You may be inspired by it. It may bring a smile to your face. It may be a distraction from the essay you really should be writing. Or, you may just think it’s crap and hate me for wasting your time, in which case you’ve got no one to blame but yourself, so bite me.
Now, like all good stories, our story begins in a wondrous land of enchantment, magic, and fairytale.
…No, seriously…
Welcome to the Walt Disney World Resort in Florida, the fitting setting of our tale. The year is 2010, the month: March. For all that “it’s always warm in Florida” stuff, the morning’s are still cold and windy in March, and because I’m on my senior school trip and it’s our last day, we all decided it would be a great idea to wear our short-sleeve “Senior Trip 2010” t-shirts we had made just for the trip. Which is probably why God decided to have fun (like he did when he made the giraffe and the walrus) and make it 50 degrees and windy early that morning as we all set out to Disney’s Hollywood Studios. Now, I’m not really complaining; better to be freezing my bones in Florida than to be sitting in a classroom wistfully counting down the days to graduation, but of all the days to wear a short sleeve shirt, it’s the day where all other my stuff is packed away so I can’t even temporarily put something else on. Go figure.
And so, my friends and I, along with all of the other seniors, boarded the buses and made our way to the park on our final day of a trip we’d been dreaming about since we took our deep breaths and walked through the doors on the morning of our very first day. (See what I did there? Eh? I can be clever too you know). As usual, my friends were the loudest, the most rambunctious and, in my bias opinion, the most fun people on said bus. It’s not that the other seniors in my year weren’t cool; it’s actually quite the opposite. THEY were the cool kids, and because of that there was always this image that they seemed to have to uphold, as if to NOT be a stereotype like the ones described at the beginning of “Mean Girls” was the ultimate no-no. Which is probably why my friends and I were the social outcasts, but hell, we didn’t care. We were just ourselves, doing what we wanted without ever really worrying about what would be said about us later. Besides, when we started up a rousing chorus of “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” on the front of the bus, you just KNOW that everyone else wanted to start singing with us. A few even started to before they got that icy “you’re breaking the rules” stare and they stopped.
Once we got there, my friends and I realized that, in order to make the day as amazing as possible, we’d have to take advantage of every little opportunity to do something and just do it. Think Jim Carrey in “Yes Man”, only applied to a group of 17-18 year old High School seniors. That’s the thing about Hollywood Studios (wait, here comes one of those “I’ve-been-to-Disney-wayyyy-too-many-times-to-count-so-I-know-the-parks-backwards rants), what sets it apart from, say, Magic Kingdom is that a vast majority of the park is made up not of rides (although the rides they DO have are kickass) but of Broadway-style shows, improv acting opportunities on the streets, and so many opportunities for the people to get up and perform along side the professional employees, and sometimes even without. So every ride we saw, be it an extreme ride or one made for little children, we rode it. Every show that was scheduled for the day, we watched. And, most importantly for the story, every opportunity to perform, we took. That morning was filled with amazing memories, and it was a fantastic way to start off the last day.
As all the seniors started to gather for the first check-in and to figure out when specifically our buses would arrive to take us to the airport, I noticed that there was an unusual buzz over the crowd, and a LOT of whispering. At first, I just thought it was because of the excitement of the last day, but then I started to hear some of the words that were being whispered:
“Is it really her?”
“Oh my God, I can’t believe it”
“Bull…”
“It’s what I heard”.
“I can’t believe she’s in the park”.
“What the hell is she doing HERE?”
That’s right. SHE was there, in the park. The Greatest of the Greats. A legend. The one. The only. ETHEL MERMAN!!! EVERYTHING’S COMING UP ROSES!!!!!
…Huh. Yeah, looking back I probably should have gone with someone who’s a little more, oh, I don’t know, alive. Probably would have made things a teeny bit more believable. All right, I’ve had my fun for now, back to the story.
And so the rumor spread like wildfire, and within seconds all 200+ of us had heard. You, Taylor Swift, the country sensation that took the world by storm in 2009, the recent winner of the Album of the Year Grammy, were somewhere in the park. At that moment, I realized that this was it. This was the chance to make a memory that would last forever. This was my chance to come back with a story that would make me a legend for the few remaining months of high school. My task was clear: In an amusement park crowded with thousands of people, I had to find and meet Taylor Swift.
…I swear, I’m really not a stalker…
Without waiting for my friends, I took off into the crush of the crowd. Using year after year of acquired knowledge of the parks, I used every trick possible to look over people’s heads (not an easy feat when you’re only 5’4’’), through masses, and anything else I could think of. The good thing about being 5’4’’ and thin is that you can move through crowds with a ridiculous amount of ease (plus it doesn’t hurt that I’m a ninja), and so I covered the park pretty quickly, but still there was nothing. I started thinking to myself “Maybe it was just a rumor. Maybe I should just head back to my friends and enjoy my last day.” And as I turned around to try and find my friends, something caught my eye. A group of people laughing loudly while walking, and in the center of them all, the back of a head crowned with golden curls.
To which comes the first of many thank yous of this letter: thank you for being so tall.
As I started to make my way toward you, I was wondering what exactly I was going to say to you. Should I play it cool and be all “whatever” as only a teenage boy can? Should I be smooth, make a Neil Caffrey sort-of approach? Should I be screaming and jumping and cause a scene, since, after all, that’s what was going on inside? I was thinking so hard about how best to approach you that I failed to notice the person walking in front of me wasn’t exactly as far away as I thought, and I bumped headlong into him. I stumbled, saved myself from falling face-first onto the ground by doing what can only be described as a ridiculous tap-dance, and righted myself.
…To find you no more than a foot from my face.
You know that cliché moment in a movie when a guy sees a really beautiful girl, and it gets all slow-motion-y while she turns to face the guy with her hair slowly flying through the air and there’s music playing in the background and the girl’s glowing (or something to that effect)? That’s basically what happened to me, and I’m not just saying that because, holy God, Taylor Swift is RIGHT in front of me. The whole nearly smashing into the ground thing, coupled with the fact I was amped up from thinking of things to say to you, sort of triggered a fight-or-flight reaction in my body, so everything was kind of moving slower courtesy of the adrenaline rush. The sun was behind you, giving you that glowy, radiant look, and it didn’t help that those amazing blue eyes you’ve got were locked with mine. As for the music: well, it’s a theme park, there’s always music. Still, the whole effect each of the pieces created was pretty amazing. You’d think that that kind of stuff only happens in the movies, but apparently with the right set of circumstances and coincidences, it can happen. And the fact that it was literally happening right in front of me stopped me cold.
Remember how I told you that everything you were going to read was true? Well, there’s one thing that’s technically true but at the same time not really. See, I told you earlier that my first words to you were “Hi, I’m Vince Favetta, and I wanted to congratulate you on all your success”. And that’s entirely true; those are, in fact, the first words I ever said to you. It’s just not the first THING I ever said to you. When you literally stumble headfirst into a Hollywood cliché moment with Taylor Swift, you sort of lose all those long years you spent practicing the English language. So the first thing that came out of my mouth was, and I quote:
“Haaaaaaaaaaaaa.
Your response was typical of anyone who just heard a total stranger say that to her: “What?”
Fortunately for my sanity and fortunately for any shred of dignity I had left, I was able to recover from that. It wasn’t exactly the best of recoveries, mind you, but considering where we started, I’ll take giving my name and a congratulatory remark any day. That first conversation with you was probably one you’ve done a thousand times before with a thousand fans, filled with the usual introductory banter, the apologies for nearly running into you, the questions about what we were doing there. What really stuck out to me in that first conversation were two things. One is that I was quick to discover you’re a hugger, since after my congratulations I held out my hand to shake yours and instead you went and hugged me, which, I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting. At first, I was so stunned that I didn’t even really return the hug, I kind of just stood there and was like “Oooook, Taylor Swift is hugging me, and not with like one of those awkward one-arm hugs but a legit hug. Dang, that intro worked better than I thought.” After a second or two, though, I returned the hug with one born from years of being in a close-knit Italian family. The other thing that really stuck out to me was how EASY it was to talk to you. I mean, you think of meeting someone who society has given the celebrity status to and, mentally, you kind of start approaching it as if you were meeting a superhuman. And I’m sure there are those people with that status who, when conversing with them, you can still feel that gap between them and your common self. With you though, it felt natural, easy, as if talking to an old friend. You seemed to ask questions with a genuine interest, and you answered each one of mine enthusiastically, sometimes taking something as simple as a yes-no answer and turning it into a 30 second response. They may seem like small things to you, but to me they made a major difference.
Sadly (for me at least), that first conversation didn’t last more than a few minutes when, out of the corner of my eye, I started to notice a lot of my blue-shirted senior comrades had noticed not only me, but who I was talking to, and they were starting to inch their way closer in that way that made me realize they were about to use me as an in to start talking to you. Now, I didn’t know if that day was, like, a once-in-a-blue-moon day off for you or you were just there on vacation or what, but I was determined to not have my entire huge senior class come over and start some mob scene and potentially ruin your day. So with a final “It was nice to meet you” and a final hug, I slipped away into the crowd. And man oh man was I grinning. I had done it, I had not only met Taylor Swift, I got hug from her. If my day were to end right here and if it was time to board the buses right now, I thought, I would be happy. Clearly, I had no idea what the rest of the day was going to bring.
All right, now before we continue, I’ll pause so that you, dear reader, be you Taylor or otherwise, can take a break. After all, you just read about 8 pages worth of a total stranger’s rantings and ravings, and while it does make for a good story (at least I think so, but I’m biased), it’s better when it’s told out loud, and it’s ESPECIALLY better when it’s told out loud by an Italian. I would know, I’ve told this story countless times. So go. Grab a snack, use the bathroom, get a drink, take a walk, whatever. Heck, even feel free to come back to me later; I’m not going anywhere. Or if you’ve come to this point and you’re bored and you throw me away, I thank you for even coming this far, but I gotta say, the rest of the story is where it gets good, especially when we get to the point to all of this, so your loss.

You back? Got yourself settled in nice and cozy? Good, than we’ll press play and continue.
After reuniting with my friends, none of whom actually believed I had found and met you, we set out to continue our “Yes-Maning” around the park. Now, like I mentioned before, what sets the Hollywood Studios Park apart from all the others are the countless opportunities for people to get up and perform. Me? I was a closeted performer. Sure, I knew it’s what made me happy, but surviving high school also made me happy. Besides, I had spent years finding my group of outcasts, the last thing I needed was to become an outcast from the outcasts. I mean, how sad would that be? So I would always kind of repress it, and there were times when it would work. I’d convince myself I wanted to be a lawyer, or a police officer, or something that didn’t involve performance. Problem was, every time I really sat down and thought of those jobs, I would think of TV or movie versions of those jobs, and it’d be back to square one for me. But with this whole ‘do it all’ mentality, I was finally able to just break down those long-built proverbial walls and just go all out. And man did we go all out. One second I was in the street pretending to be a 1920’s actor, the next I was up on stage being an Arab for an “Indiana Jones” stunt show. Sure, at the time it was all under the pretense of “we’re doing everything”, but the more I did, the more I loved it, and the more I started to, for once, let myself be me
All of this came to a head when, as we were walking by a little attraction called “The American Idol Experience”, my friends and I were considering just skipping it. And I’ll be the first to admit, I was right there on board with the idea. Prancing around the street acting like a loon was one thing (it’s called Tuesday to me), but the thought of singing in front of a crowd sent a major chill up my spine. Still, being a guy, I had to blow it off like it was really nothing. You’ve dated us; you know how we do it:
“Psh, man, I’d go in there and do it, but I won’t since ya’ll don’t want to”
Then one of my dear friend uttered the words that would change that entire day, and, in a way, my entire life, forever.
“Yeah right, man. I bet you wouldn’t”
Now, maybe it was the fact that I was being called out by my boy. Maybe it was the fact that I was cracked out on barely any sleep. Maybe it was the whole “last day” thing. Maybe it was the fact that inside I was dying to do it, and this was my big excuse. I’ll never really know. All I know is that as soon as he said that, I got this fire in my veins and some ridiculous amount of gumption from God-knows-where. All that nervousness and those feelings that had been holding me back were gone, replaced by the need to prove him wrong.
“Oh yeah?” I said. “Watch this.”
And without another word, I went into the room and signed up to audition.
Now, how the attraction works is like this: you go in and you sing a song a cappella in front of three judges. If you pass, you make it to the next round, which is basically the same thing only you sing a different song. Now, if you pass a second time, you and a few others do the live show, where the audience determines your fate with the push of a button. If you win THAT, you get the chance to perform with all the other finalists for one last battle at the last showing. The winner of that gets a pass to go instantly to the TV auditions for the actual judges of American Idol. Nice prize for people that just go in there on a whim, right?
At this point, I’m basically going in with no desire whatsoever to actually get anywhere in the competition. All I really want to do is prove to my friend that I’d actually, well, do it. So, my turn comes, I sing a song I can’t remember, and I figure that’d be it for me. I could just go back to my friends and I’d just move on.
Except for one thing: I went to round 2.
So I start thinking to myself how awesome it’ll be to go back to my friends and not only say I did it, but I actually went through the first round. I’d just earned bragging rights for the entire trip home, and I intended to use them. The second round starts, I sing my next song, which I’m pretty sure was either “Walkin’ in Memphis” or “Somebody to Love”, but I forget which. Boom: done, case closed, time to go.
Until they told me I was going to round 3.
Now, at this point I start to freak out, oh, a lot. This had gone from proving a point to me being forced to go up on stage in front of a LOT of people and sing a song against a couple of other people who were undoubtedly going to blow me out of the water. That little voice in my head started screaming “RUN VINCE, RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!!” and I was inclined to listen to him if it wasn’t for the fact I was expected on stage. I picked my song (the other of the two songs mentioned before I think), got ready, and when it was time, went out onto the stage.
Instantly, all the panic I had felt just seeped away. It was as if that stage, at that moment, was exactly where I was supposed to be. The feeling was unbelievable as nervousness turned to excitement and I gave my performance. I sang, I danced (probably not well, mind you) and I just had the most amazing time in the world. It was beyond words, and when I got off the stage and the next performer went up, it was all I could do to keep myself from jumping up and down like a girl who just had her first kiss. Which I did anyway, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. I was so much in my own giddy little world that I didn’t notice that the Ryan Seacrest equivalent of the attraction was trying to tell me something.
Quick side-note: I had mentioned to him and the judges while they were talking to me at some point that I was on the last day of my trip, and that I was due onto a bus in a few hours. So when not-Ryan was telling me that the votes were in and that I had won, my immediate shock and excitement was just as quickly replaced by sadness and disappointment
When I told him there was no way I was going to be able to actually compete in the finals, he decided that he would announce the runner-up as the winner and that I would be announced as the runner-up. And I know it may sound like a load of crap when I say this, but I really wasn’t bitter at all toward the runner-up for getting my chance. I heard her performance, and she amazed me. I was surprised that I had even beaten her in the first place, so when the decision was made to declare her the winner, I was actually really happy for her. If anyone deserved a shot at the finals, it was her.
So, I left the Idol arena, throwing my little contestant pin away because, at that particular moment, it was too painful to hold onto. After looking to see if my friends were in the crowd (which they weren’t, since, according to what I found out later, they wanted to keep doing other stuff. Can’t say I blame them) I decided to spend my last hour or so by myself, throwing a little pity-party for poor, poor me. I found this quick and easy restaurant and, sitting down alone, I started reflecting on all that had happened over the past few days, and how sad I was that the trip had to end on such a bittersweet note. It’s also when I started really reflecting on not only the past, but also my present and my future.
It really started to dawn on me that the one thing that made me happy was performing. After the day I had had, I couldn’t deny it any longer. The only problem was that everything in my life was going against that. My little Jersey town is very set in its ways. It’s a society like so many others: one that tells you that you have to do things a certain way, that there is an order to the world that cannot be broken. To even consider going outside of that set path was crazy. To actually try meant you were a failure, and you were going to be a failure the rest of your life. And in a just a few hours, I was going to fly back to that. To a world bent on keeping me from doing what I loved, to a school where trying to follow my dream at that point in the game was not only impossible, it would mean I would be looked at as a future failure. A hopeless dreamer. I’m not one that admits when I’m down often; countless years of various martial arts has given me this sort of “grin and bear it” mentality about a lot of things. But in that moment, I was despairing.
I wouldn’t have even noticed that you and your group were sitting a few tables from mine if it wasn’t for the flash of your blue eyes I saw in the corner of mine. Still, even noticing you and having a little jump, I couldn’t be brought to get up and go talk to you again. Yeah, I was that bad. I figured I’d just finish eating, slip away, and head to the buses. Go back to repressing my dream for something “practical”.
That’s when you did something that changed my life forever. You took the time.
I didn’t see you walking over. If I had, I probably would have had a freak out right there in the restaurant. All I knew was that suddenly, I felt someone tapping me on my shoulder, and when I turned around, there were those blue eyes again, right in front of mine. You held out your hand, looked me square in the eye, and said:
“Hi, my name is Taylor, and I wanted to congratulate you on all your success.”
All I could think to myself was “Oh, she’s GOOD”
Back then, I thought you had seen me on the stage earlier that day, but thinking back on it, you never actually told me if you did. You could have seen me doing one of the countless other things I had done that day. Heck, you could have just been being your clever self and figured you’d open the same way I did. I don’t know, and now that I think about it, it doesn’t really matter. What does matter is that you came, sat down in front of me, and just started talking to me. As if I was someone you chatted with all the time. And just like the first time, it was so easy. Only hours later, as I sat on a plane flying back to Jersey, did it actually dawn on me that in that restaurant, I was talking to THE Taylor Swift. In that moment, I was talking to a girl that I felt I had known my entire life. For me, there was no gap, no awkward feeling of “she’s famous and your not, so mind your tongue and know your place.” You were able to completely draw me out of me, and the two of us just talked and talked away.
At some point, the conversation turned to what I thought I was going to be doing in my future, and when I talked about how I would really like to act but probably wouldn’t because, let’s face it, it’s not really that practical and what would a guy like me be doing in a world with dudes like Clooney and Dicaprio, you did something I really did not expect. You flared up:
“Well, if you really want to do something and you’re good at it, you can’t just not do it!”
And off you went, talking up a storm like you were some personal trainer pushing an athlete to go to the extreme. And the words you said, the motivation you gave, the picture you painted, it stuck with me. Even after the conversation continued and the topic slowly changed, all of that stuff was still floating around in the back of my mind.
Eventually, after some time, I realized (thanks to a clock on the wall, my phone was dead and my camera was accidentally packed away) that it was time for me to head to the buses. We both got up, hugged, and you said your last words to me.
“Remember. If you really want it, you gotta go for it.”
With that, you walked back to your group and, with one last look at you, I smiled to myself and walked away.
That’s it. That’s the story of us, the story of the day Taylor Swift suddenly walked into and, just as quickly, out of my life. And after all that, I’m sure that you, dear reader, have a question that’s dwarfing any others that you may have: what’s the point of all of this?
Well, it’s like I said before: all those words of encouragement, of motivation, they stuck with me. They stuck with me while I sat on the plane home, thinking about the amazing, beautiful, wonderful girl that I met and regretting that I had nothing to remember her by but a memory. They stuck with me when I walked down the isle months later and was handed a diploma. They stuck with me when I was in a car loaded with boxes, driving toward Fordham University (Go Rams!) for my first day of college. They stuck with me when, as I passed an actor’s studio in New York, I suddenly spun around and burst through the doors, signing up to audition in order to take the class. They stuck with me when I was given the offer to be on “One Life to Live”. They stuck with me when I entered the room and auditioned for the woman who would become my manager. And just last week, as the call of “ACTION” went out on the set of my first ever short film. it dawned on me whose voice had been uttering the words that had been pushing me all this time. It was yours.
The fact is this: That day in the restaurant, I was not in a good place, for the reasons you just read about and for plenty of others that I’m not even going to begin to go in to. Everything was just piling up on me, and the fact that the ride was over and I was about to head back home to, well, you know, was just the icing on the cake. But you took the time. You probably had a billion other things you could have been doing. Heck, you were with people you actually did know, and you could have just stayed with them and been perfectly happy. But you took the time. You came over, and you talked to a complete stranger, and you pushed him to be more than he ever thought than he could be. That day, you changed my life forever for the better, and you did it all just by being a kind person. Just by being a good person. Just by being yourself.
It may sound strange, and a little on the creepy side, but every time I push forward in my career, every time I get an opportunity, there’s always this idea in the back of my mind that one day, you’ll know what you did for me that day, and I’ll be able to thank you for it. There are so many people that I have to thank for everything that’s happened/is happening to me, from an amazing family I soooo lucked out on being born into to the friends that have had my back since we were all in kindergarten together, but I get to look them in the eye and say thank you, and I get to do it often. I don’t get that opportunity with you, because I’m a stupid man who lets amazing women walk out of his life without even trying to get a phone number, an email, or SOMETHING. At the heart of it, that’s really what this letter is about. Sure, it’s about reminding you of the story of us, a story that I’ve told countless times to countless people, but now that I think about it, I think that every time I tell this story, it’s with the hope that one day you’d hear it and you would know that you saved me. And so to you, Taylor, I say thank you. Thank you for taking the time.
Now, if the person reading this is NOT Taylor (or even if it is), I’ve got something to tell you, too. There’s a great line from “The Pursuit of Happyness” that Will Smith says, and for what I’m going on about, it’s appropriate:
“Don't ever let somebody tell you... You can't do something. Not even me. All right? You got a dream...You gotta protect it. People can't do somethin' themselves, they wanna tell you you can't do it. If you want somethin', go get it. Period.”

There will be times in your life where someone or something tells you that you can’t follow your dream. If that time ever comes, I hope that you’ll take a leaf out of my book, and just forget them. Forget the naysayers, the people that tell you you’re going to fail, the people who tell you that you can’t do what you want because it’s not practical, or it doesn’t make sense, or whatever other stupid reason they come up with. Never EVER stop dreaming, and never EVER be afraid to dream. Consider this: everything in this world that we have we have because someone dared to dream, and they dared to dream big. Not only that, but every single big name in every single field wasn’t always the big shots they’re known as today. They started out just like you: dreaming of endless possibilities. They’re not gods, they’re not superhero’s with supernatural powers, they’re people just like you and me. If they did it, so can you. Don’t settle for just getting through life. Live it, and I mean really live it.
If you’ve actually come this far, Taylor/reader, I’m pretty stoked. I mean, of all the things that you could have done in the last 10-15 minutes, you chose to read around 18 pages of some total stranger’s rambling. Either you really liked what you were reading or you were really, REALLY bored. Either way, I’m honored and kind of impressed that you read through this whole thing, and I hope that something I said gives you something to think about in some way. Taylor, know that I will continue to try and find a way to be able to look you in the eye again and thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Not Taylor (and Taylor too, I guess), I promise to never stop dreaming big and doing everything I can to make those dreams come true as long as you promise to do the same, got it?
Since half the things I say in everyday conversation are quotes, either from a movie, a TV show, or a song, I figure it’d kind of be appropriate to go out with one:
“An inch. It is small and it is fragile and it is the only thing in the world worth having. We must never lose it or give it away. We must NEVER let them take it from us. I hope that whoever you are, you escape this place. I hope that the world turns, and that things get better. But what I hope most of all is that you understand what I mean when I tell you that, even though I do not know you, and even though I may never meet you, laugh with you, cry with you, or kiss you, I love you. With all my heart, I love you.”
– V for Vendetta

With love,
Vincent Favetta

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    Re: She saved my life...

    Mon, Jun 25, 2012 at 5:19 AM

    Wow how long did it take for you to write that?
    I

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    Re: She saved my life...

    Mon, Jun 25, 2012 at 5:25 AM

    Oh, such a story you got there!

    ^thank you Lilylily13 for this beautiful signature!

    ^made by me

    ^Click here!

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    Re: She saved my life...

    Mon, Jun 25, 2012 at 7:07 AM

    That was quite the story. Honestly as I was reading it I thought to myself as if I was there and could practically relate. This story really made me think how crazy this world is (and how small since you met Taylor twice in just a few days or in your case the Last day). I also want to congrats for having that big chance at being on American Idol, and just to show off to your fans. I think you have a good story and its no wonder you shared it with us and to Taylor (Or not-Taylor) because when I read it all I could do is read it and think to myself just how easy someones perspective can be changed by just a few words.

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    Re: She saved my life...

    Mon, Jun 25, 2012 at 7:11 AM

    That's a great story! I love it :)




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    Re: She saved my life...

    Mon, Jun 25, 2012 at 8:11 AM

    I love it! (:

    Love, Love, Love
    -M-

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    Re: She saved my life...

    Mon, Jun 25, 2012 at 8:22 AM

    Great story

    credit to Luckythirteen^^
    Just click here

    credit to superswiftie1331

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    Re: She saved my life...

    Mon, Jun 25, 2012 at 8:52 AM

    Awesome story!

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    Re: She saved my life...

    Mon, Jun 25, 2012 at 8:59 AM

    that's am awesome story!! I love it!!!! :D
    -----------------------------------------------------

    *Forever and always a Swiftie!*

    ~May the odds be ever in your favor!~

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    Re: She saved my life...

    Mon, Jun 25, 2012 at 9:56 AM

    This story is so incredibly powerful! Thank you so much for posting!!!!
    ------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Credit to SwiftLookAlike ^^ :)

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    Re: She saved my life...

    Mon, Jun 25, 2012 at 11:44 AM

    you werent joking when you said it was long were you!

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    RE: She saved my life...

    Mon, Jun 25, 2012 at 12:39 PM

    No doubt that it was long, but it's worth reading :D
    My blogs :)

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    Re: She saved my life...

    Mon, Jun 25, 2012 at 1:14 PM

    That has to be one of the most awesome stories I've ever read! It didn't even feel long when I was reading it :)

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    Re: She saved my life...

    Mon, Jun 25, 2012 at 3:28 PM

    That's the most beautiful story I've ever read on this forum. I mean it, it's amazing.
    I started to tear up towards the end, a lot. Not only did Taylor change my life a long time ago, this little story had an huge impact on me. So thank you, thank you so much for sharing your story with us.



    lovelovelove
    -S-

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    Re: She saved my life...

    Mon, Jun 25, 2012 at 3:39 PM

    That's incredible. Thank you so much for deciding to post this :')

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    Re: She saved my life...

    Tue, Jun 26, 2012 at 6:47 PM

    Oh, and you're a great writer by the way. :)

    lovelovelove
    -S-

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    Re: She saved my life...

    Tue, Jun 26, 2012 at 6:48 PM

    wow!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THATS SO LONG!!!!!


    -E- xxx

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    Re: She saved my life...

    Tue, Jun 26, 2012 at 8:21 PM

    Wow, that's an amazing story you wrote!

    Made by ShiningLikeFireworks :)


    Made by me :)

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    Re: She saved my life...

    Tue, Jun 26, 2012 at 8:44 PM

    That's really good!
    Love, love, love,
    TaySwiftie13

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    Re: She saved my life...

    Tue, Jun 26, 2012 at 10:22 PM

    Awesome story!!!
    ~Wish i had concentrated~



    ^^^
    Made by BetterthanRevenge136 :)

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    Re: She saved my life...

    Mon, Jul 2, 2012 at 9:34 AM

    Emily Swift Forever wrote:
    wow!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THATS SO LONG!!!!!


    -E- xxx


    And SO worth reading! =)