with every little word, you're getting closer to me.

"...talking loud and clear, saying just what you feel, today.".

OMD was fantastic, like they always are. Dad said it's never as good as the first time you saw them, but I have to disagree. They played a bunch of new songs and although they tend to just keep the same playlist from night to night, I can't complain. I was about six people away from the front. It was held at Irving Plaza, a small venue. OMD played for about two hours - two brilliant hours.

Stanlow
Messages
Tesla Girls
She's Leaving
History of Modern (Part 1)
(Forever) Live and Die
If You Leave
Souvenir
Joan of Arc
Maid of Orleans
Statues
Talking Loud and Clear
So In Love
Sister Marie Says
Locomotion
Dreaming
Sailing on the Seven Seas
Enola Gay

Encore:
Walking on the Milky Way
Secret
Electricity

Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt, basically. I smiled so much at that concert and I'm pretty sure I injured myself while dancing. Whatever. I was the youngest person there, by far. I wish someone would appreciate 80s music with me and not scorn against it. (Fuck the 70s and 60s, the 80s trump that so hard).

I mean, the only bad part about the whole night was the couple in front of me who insisted on making out between songs. There was actually spit everywhere and I was like, "Um. Well. I guess...?".

No, but seriously, my boyfriend better learn to appreciate the 80s. Or appreciate the 80s beforehand. Anything with the 80s is fine. None of this "wigger" crap. Or jocks. Or 6'5" blondes. Yeah.

I've been trying not to think of him and it's actually going pretty well. When I say him, I mean late August, early September him. Remember how I said that I can't physically cry anymore about this? It's still in session. When I do remember the crappy stuff he did to me, the overwhelming feeling of sadness and crying takes hold, but nothing falls from my eyes.

I don't think it's crappy - I actually just think it's scummy. I know that nudes and sexting exists in the "real world", but I don't think I should be pressured into in and then be laughed at. It's just wrong, obviously.

I probably wouldn't be dwelling on this so long if he didn't say love. He said I was the sweetest girl he's ever met...but you know, it's whatever. I don't even care about that. It's just "love" was said so many times. Like when during "Lesson Three" (Those who I told will get this immediately, so I hope), I asked him, "What do you think the people driving past here are thinking? They've got a clear view of Aury Island." and he responded, "Two people in love.".

I'll say it here, love and in love are entirely different things.

He's caught me caught up on things he said, which I guess is normal. I shouldn't be thinking much about this, but I just need to document this so it doesn't get to clogging my brain.

Until then, I'm mapping out my routes to Chinatown from Penn Station. When marching band is over, it's going to be me and that field.

I'm thinking about going out for the soccer team next year, just for fun. I don't want the scholarship crap or anything, I just want to run.