Love
2023
She’ll try to tell you I fell in love with her last night, quote “The Rock Show” with a twinkle in her eye just to prove her point.
But she’s wrong.
I fell in love with everyone but her.
I fell in love with the band on the stage, those too-pop, swoopy-haired pretty boys she won’t shut up about. With their distraction, their casual destruction, but most of all the delight in their eyes that says yes, they’ve been doing this for as long as she’s been alive, but every day is still the first one. The magical one.
I fell in love with the girls in the crowd, that sisterhood of the singalong that swept her off her feet and carried her so far away I was worried I’d have to crowd surf, too, if I was ever going to find her again. With their dedication, their heart-on-sleeve devotion, but most of all the dream in their eyes that says yes, they’re each one of thousands, millions, too many to count, but on a night like tonight there’s still a hope they can be the only one. The chosen one.
I left the show I didn’t want to go to, dragged my feet about, and refused to pay my share of the tickets for more in love than I’ve ever been. She could read it in my eyes through the daze of the hard seltzers and the secondhand high of the smoky room. Of course she could. She’s the expert here; this is her world, an extension of her heart, her soul, her very essence.
But no, despite what she’ll tell you, I didn’t fall in love with her last night.
I didn’t have to. I loved her from the start.