Britney, I'm Sorry

I don't post about Britney Spears very often. We don't have much in common.

I'll never forget watching the video to "...Baby One More Time" for the first time. It was so new. So fresh. So darn catchy. And while I soon overdosed on peppy pop and moved on to acoustic guitars and a man known as Bono, I've always had a bit of a soft spot for the schoolgirl with fuzzy scrunchies in her pigtails. It's been ten years. I feel old.

Last night, I inadvertently got sucked into the completely unrevealing quasi-doc "Britney: For the Record." As she quote-unquote opened up for the interviewers and gave us a peak into her personal world, I felt uneasy. It was so orchestrated. So out of her hands. This was a management move. She doesn't have her kids, control of her estate, or even the privilege of going on a date without a chaperone. She went along with the game, smiling as she gave the responsible, grownup answers. She's back in fine form. She's tough. She will survive.

And then she broke. For only a second or two. Her voice wavered. She looked into a lens and cried for help.

"I'm sad."

I almost cried for Britney Spears last night.

Bebo Norman, always reading my mind, wrote her a song.* It's gorgeous and haunting and optimistic and completely uncomfortable to listen to.

I've called a stranger a trainwreck. I've rolled my eyes at a broken heart. I've both told the lies and bought into them. And perhaps I've failed her.

Britney, I'm sorry.

*The video IS NOT an official video. A fan used his song to make their own tribute to Spears. See him play it live here.

 I want to be Bebo Norman when I grow up. And when I learn to play the guitar.