Whitney Houston’s Life Long Friend Pens Open Letter
It’s so strange that she died when she did. February was her month. Her first album was released on Valentine’s Day, right around the time of the Grammys, right around the time of Clive Davis’s party. It was an orchestrated thing. She was Clive’s girl, his great discovery. And she died right before Valentine’s Day, right before the Grammys, right before Clive’s party. Of course, she was going. I don’t know if she was singing, I don’t know what kind of pressure she was putting on herself. But she was going, that’s for damned sure.
People thought they had to protect her. She hated that. And that’s what people don’t understand: She was always the one doing the driving. Someone just called and told me that the family kept Whitney from seeing her. Nobody kept Whitney from doing anything. She did what she wanted to do. When people left her or were told to leave, they could never believe that Whitney would never call them — but she never did. She was working hard to keep herself together, and I think she felt that if she admitted any feeling of sadness or weakness she would crumble. One time, back when we were young, we were out, we were partying, and I said, “Listen, I have to go. I’m tired. I can’t make it.” And she looked at me with her eyes wide and said, “I’ve got to make it.”
And that was Whitney. She could not pick up the phone, and that meant it was too painful. I have never spoken about her until now. And she knew I wouldn’t. She was a loyal friend, and she knew I was never going to be disloyal to her. I was never going to betray her. Now I can’t believe that I’m never going to hug her or hear her laughter again. I loved her laughter, and that’s what I miss most, that’s what I miss already.
I’m trying not to think of the end. I’m trying not to listen to all the reports. All these people talking about drugs — well, a lot of people take drugs, and they’re still around. Whitney isn’t, because you never know the way the wind blows. I just hope that she wasn’t in pain and that she hadn’t lost hope. She gave so much to so many people; I hope that she felt loved in return. She was the action, for such a long time. She’s out of the action now. I hope she can finally rest.