John, my manual

I saw John Mayer last night. Such a dream.

It brought up feelings that I never felt before. Seeing your favorite artist live is like something inside you bursts open and love and other feelings spread out and you can't stop crying. I couldn't stop crying. I cried during 80% of the concert, I'd say. I'm still crying every time I think about it. It was overwhelming.

He brought me happiness, but he also got me thinking of life. What everything is for, university, responsibility, everything that keeps me from being young. So scared of getting older, I'm only good at being young. I want him so much. I don't know what he does to me. He touches me in places I didn't even know I had inside me. So cliché, I know, but that really does happen.

And so, this was my day. Crying. I spent the entire day crying and being scared of life, only wanting to be on John's tour bus and living like that for the rest of my life. John is the closest thing I have to a life and heart manual. I intend to tell him that personally one day. I have this feeling inside me that I'm going to see him again sooner rather than later, but I'm so fucking scared that I won't ever get to see him again.

I wish I could see him in Madrid on the 4th. I wish I had a car so I could actually go. It's ironic, really. I don't want to get any older but everything I want to do obliges me to.

Okay, 1AM. Going to watch Grey's Anatomy's season finale, cry, listen to John in bed, cry again.

Bisou, bisou *