Love.

Love.

Love. It’s the feeling of the paper on your fingers and looking at your seat number. It’s seeing that person’s name typed out right in front of you; that person you normally see from behind a screen. It’s that feeling of excitement that rushes through you when you finally have your tickets.

Love. It’s the long days and weeks leading up to that moment you’ve been waiting for. It’s counting down the months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, and seconds until it’s finally time.

Love. It’s seeing all the phone flashlights light up at the sound of an acoustic guitar. It’s screaming lyrics and swaying silently. It’s flashes of memories you get from just a few words sung or notes played. It’s your cheeks hurting at the end of the night from smiling so hard and not having a voice from screaming your love.

Love. It’s knowing you’re breathing the same air as so many other people who feel the exact same way. It’s tears when that one song is played that means so much to you. It’s driving for hours, waiting in lines, but knowing it’ll be worth it.

Love. It’s the band warming up. It’s watching the stage crew move around because it’s almost show time. It’s hearing the words that started it all. It’s the lights dimming and people screaming and drums beating and basses strumming and tunes opening.

Love. It’s seeing them. Not behind a screen. Not through someone else’s eyes. It’s them running onstage. Showcasing all of their passion for performing. It’s the adrenaline pumping and the butterflies fluttering. It’s falling hard for someone who has changed your life for the better and given you strength when you had none.

Love. It’s feeling like you have finally found a place where you belong. Where you’re happy. It’s feeling content no matter what is going on. It’s forgetting all the bad things happening in your life for one night full of smiles, music, and happiness.

Love. It’s concerts.

 

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