If you're in a place, #19: Mac & Ariana

#19: Mac & Ariana

If you’re in a place, watch this live performance of “My Favorite Part” by Mac Miller and Ariana Grande.

Ariana and Mac didn’t work out. I think it was the drugs, the thing that would also eventually take Mac’s life. I don’t know the truth, but in my mind, Ariana tried. She really did. She stuck by Mac as long as she could but, ultimately, had to make a decision to save herself. This isn’t selfish. Women are so often put in the position to save men and then are demonized when they’re unable to do so. But it’s not the responsibility of women to save us. Every woman is not our mother, and yet we (I) act as if this is the case. Society doesn’t hold us accountable. We aren’t pushed to be better, to grow, to evolve. Men get the privilege of mediocrity. Our social power comes from patriarchy, and yet we are also stunted by it.

That’s not to say that Mac didn’t try. Drugs are hard. I watched my dad, for twenty years, fight that fight before he finally won. And, if you asked him, he’d say he’s still fighting. I watched my uncle, belly swelled and cold, lose that fight in his apartment in El Sereno.

I learned about ten years ago that the most common time people overdose is after giving up the drugs and returning to them. The body forms a tolerance after prolonged use, and when a person returns to the drugs after a break, they’re convinced they’ll need the same dose they needed before. This is wrong. The body's not ready.

The body gives out.

In this video, filmed around the time their relationship became public, the love is clear. The joy is clear. The admiration. The way she smiles at him when she strolls onto the stage. The way he gazes at her when she takes over. The way she laughs at the end of her solo. The way they dance around each other. Their banter after the song ends.

There’s such adoration. The kind of deep adoration that isn’t just associated with romantic love, though that’s obviously there too. But the kind of adoration you feel when you appreciate the entire existence of another human. And the gratitude you feel to get to live a life beside that person. It’s beautiful. It’s simple.

But this also casts the shadow of the idea that love is never enough. There’s the work as well. And sometimes, even the work doesn’t get us to where we need to go. I don’t know Mac, but I miss him. I feel it when I hear his songs.

Love can't save our lives. Clearly. To put such a weight on love is irresponsible. But, even if just temporarily, it can remind us what it means to be alive.