The Loves of My Life

I've never seen so many teenage girls in one place. We were smashed together, all trying to squeeze into the building at once. I'd been standing outside for what seemed like ages, and it took just about as long to get into the doors of the Maverick center, but I was buzzing. I had literally waited a year and a half to come here and see One Direction in concert.
Ally was never a huge fan like I am. She knows a few of their songs, but she just came with me because I asked her to back when the tickets came on pre-sale. Don't get me wrong, she had a good time, but at first when we were trying to get in the building, she looked less than delighted. I was delighted, though. I had spent all of the days before daydreaming about impossible scenarios of what could happen on the most magical day of my life so far. Even though some of those things would never happen, it still got my emotions stirred up enough to be more than ecstatic to see them.
Eventually we found our seats and about an hour and a half later, after the opening act was finished and there had been a period of setting up the stage behind the curtain, the lights went out.
You could feel everyone tense up and we all pulled out our cameras.
The curtain rose, music started playing, and bright lights came on. A door rose and you could see 5 pairs of feet. I'm usually a quiet person, but I've never felt anything like that before--it was like I physically could not stop screaming.

They sang beautifully, and they looked even more attractive in person than in pictures. I couldn't rip my eyes from the stage. It was like my senses were in freak out mode, and I wanted to take in every detail. I had spent all of this time ever since 2011 seeing them on on a screen; they had seemed so mythical... But now their light bounced directly into my eyes, nothing in between. It felt like, even across a sea of girls, I could reach out and touch Harry's curly hair.

(Fangirling is hard work... it'd pretty physically and emotionally tiring, and you can't make yourself stop.)
The rest of the concert was just as amazing. For the first time in a long while, I wasn't self-concious. I didn't care what my dance moves looked like or how tone deaf I sounded or what my problems in life were; I was just happy.

The next day I had concert hangover: slightly deaf, sore, scratchy throat, and still getting emotional and/or crying every time One Direction came on my iPod. Ridiculous, I know... But right then it felt like they were the loves of my life.