One Night I Fell In Love
Magical sounds floated around us and lifted us up into the clouds. Or…more like I was 15 and at my first real concert. I was desperately trying to be cool, act cool, look cool because I was on my first real date. I was also trying hard to make sure that no one could tell I was trying hard. I had a shirt at home for the band we were seeing but I knew it was patently uncool to wear the band’s shirt to their concert. So I wore a ridiculous baby pink Fender shirt instead, obviously.
My dad dropped us on at a venue. It was one of those awkward car rides where you are hyper-aware of the distance between each other’s hands. My date was a seasoned concert goer so I was convinced I could play it like a pro if I just followed his lead.
“Hey, let’s go check out the merch,” he said.
I smiled awkwardly in return. I mumbled something affirmative while I searched my mind for what 'merch' meant and where we would find it in this dark, packed room that smelled like incense and adolescent yearning.
He bought me a band t-shirt. If the heart eyes emoji existed then, I probably would have snapchatted one to my bff. I would have to settle for a vague Myspace update after I waited for my AOL broadband to dial-up the next time my mom let me use the family computer.
We found a good spot with a decent view of the stage but with the preoccupation of having to find a place to plant ourselves gone, my attention now zeroed in on how awkward I felt. My teen years left me well aquainted with painful self-consciousness. I felt like everyone was looking at me all the time (not in a good way) and wouldn’t realize until many years later that literally no one cared. I felt very present in my body…and a very strong desire to crawl out.
I didn’t know what to do with my hands or body in relation to his. When he spoke, I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to look at his right eye or left eye or stare at his lips like they do in movies. I would later learn that the best choice is to just stare off, disinterestedly, so they think you are mysterious and moody.
By the time the main band got on stage, I was feeling a bit more comfortable. It was too loud for any embarrassing sound I could make (like breathing) to be heard. It was too dark for me to worry if there was food stuck in my teeth from the food I didn’t eat. We were standing closer.
The music hit me like a wave… but the gentle kind that laps at your feet when you walk on the shore (I probably wrote this exact line in my 9th grade English class). We were together. Me and him. And all of us. The whole room. Music unites you. It takes you out of yourself and brings you somewhere else. It’s bigger. I’d like to think I was a part of something that night. He put his arm around me and I leaned into him. I closed my eyes, the music swallowed me up. It felt safe. It felt like home. That night I fell in love.
This piece was written as part of the Art Swap Collaboration. To see all the stories in this collection click here.
I created the art for DHBogucki’s piece: