When I walked in it was instantly familiar, but I couldn't for the life of me place when or why I had been there before. Perhaps I had been there years ago, or it could've simply been a deja vu? I honestly couldn't say one way or the other, but the foggy familiarity was comforting in its own way. The place was expansive, ornate, and Victorian. I half expected to see fat opera ladies in velvet ruffles with excessively-rouged cheeks so much as the 30-something hipsters with thick, black glasses and fancy tennis shoes.
Our seats were good ones, as they were unobstructed by anyone, however, I was in an odd row on the end, with my legs pressed tightly against the very edge of the balcony. I am quite petite, so I cannot imagine anyone else being able to sit there for long. I crossed my legs to compensate. The opening band droned on and on, slowly, hypnotically, sans much melody at all, which only contributed to my restlessness in the cramped quarters. I was eager to walk around again before the act we were here for started to play. I needed to be "in the zone" when he came on, I said to my friend. The boring band ended, and we proceeded to get up and mingle amongst the strangers in the crowd.
I looked around for familiar faces, but saw only one, at first. It was overwhelming being around so many people, for the heights of the theater's ceiling were no match for the tight walkways and staircases. I tried to focus on making chit-chat with my companion instead of letting the relentless nag of agoraphobia get the best of me; this night was too important to sabotage with my ridiculous fears. Far, far too important.
Time passed quickly without much incident, and we turned to head back from the merch table to our seats. It was time to settle in and get ready for what I have been anticipating for weeks now, even dreamt about for years... and then there he was. Our eyes met. I was stricken with a wave of panic. A jolt. A lightening bolt. I looked again, and he was still focused on me. I wondered how long he'd noticed me there from afar, watching me as my back was turned. What had he been thinking during that time? Did I look good after all these years? Was he dreading the possibility of my seeing him? Was he nervous? Was he sad or angry? I don't know.
The friend I was with is a very big man, so it was easy to hide behind him as I gathered my thoughts. I knew I would likely run into someone I knew at this show, but I most certainly wasn't expecting to see him. I whispered to my friend, "Oh my god. My ex-boyfriend is over there, I haven't seen him in years. He was the man who broke my heart more than anyone on Earth ever has. It's Zach. I don't know if I should go say hi or not."
A few seconds passed, but it seemed like an absolute eternity. I knew Zach was watching us, intently. I tell my friend, "Fuck it, I'll go say hi," as though I wasn't going to since we had no choice but to walk right past him anyways. I went up to him. Talked to him. Made the usual comments about this and that. I looked into his eyes for the first time in so many years. I remembered the sadness of those eyes, this sadness that is within him, always. He was nice to me, when I thought he would be cold and distant. I acted very cheerful and bubbly. It was time for the show now. We said our cordial goodbyes.
My friend and I took our seats, and once again I fidgeted, trying to find a way to be comfortable with my leg being smooshed against a concrete wall. The show was starting. I crossed my legs again. As he played, just one humble man on a huge stage, surrounded only by a handful of guitars and microphones, the crowd was absolutely gobsmacked at being a part of this; hundreds of us gasping for him, for this opportunity to witness something, someone, so much more than ourselves, so much more than this pathetic little world.
I tried so hard to listen and be 'in the zone,' but his words matched so cleverly with the thoughts of Zach that were swirling around in my brain. These memories like rocks in a creek, and the water of the music thrusting up against them, beating at them, smoothing and eroding them... It took two or three songs to shake the rocks loose, then I drifted away with his voice. My blood coursed through my veins in time with his strumming. My ears were warm and fuzzy and filled with his magic. And then my song began... the song that is so much a part of everything... and I sang along, and everyone sang along, and it was more incredible than you can ever imagine. And you, in that moment, are so painfully aware of how near death is, and how precious and fleeting life is, and he points it out to you in a way that you can never, ever forget. We are all so small, and this existence is silly, but oh so incredibly beautiful.
My encounter with Zach could not have come at a better time after all. He sank me, and changed me, and showed me the intensity of what love was, and that sex is a gift, and passion is something one doesn't find every day; it is to be coveted and protected and never, ever to be taken for granted because all of these things are rare and exceptional. I will never, ever forget him, nor will I ever forget that night. There is magic all around us, lost in the shroud of strangers and darkness... I must take the time to escape from myself long enough to find it each and every day... I must...
