Thoughts from the bottom of my heart about Harry's visit & the Manchester attack
I came here to say that I love Harry so much. The album is simply great; his voice accompanied with the music is so pleasing to hear. You know, I was so excited for the album to be released and finally, Friday, May 12 arrived. Along with the album release, the most unexpected news came: Harry was coming to give a show in my country, in my city. What should've been the most euphoric moment became the most dreading, anxious and hopeless one. Why? Because he was coming sponsored by one of the biggest radio stations here and they were the only ones giving away the tickets and it was so "exclusive" it would be a secret show for 150 people. It was obvious, you had to listen to that fucking station all day, participating by doing whatever ridiculous dynamic that had occurred to them that day, or being glued to the phone calling them hoping for the remote possibility they would answer. I was so sad because thousands wanted to see him and to compete for 150 tickets was nearly impossible. You have to waste a lot of time for them to give you nothing, not even notice you. Of course I loved the album but they made me not enjoy it 100% because I could've been participating instead of listening to the album, instead of doing anything else! Anyway, next week came. I participated in every dynamic I could, especially one where I had to take a picture at a wall (my wonderful friends went with me all the way to that wall) and send the most tweets I could. Long story short: they played with us and only announced 5 winners instead of the 15 they said. Such a disrespect to our time and effort, but I wasn't surprised. I said I wasn't going to spend again my time with those people. I resigned, it was nearly impossible, all week I had been trying and nothing. The weekend came and I went to do some exercise at my club. I was waiting for my mom to pick me up and I opened Facebook in the meantime. First post I see was from Harry's page: he would be doing a public show at my city (150 people my ass!) and tickets were on sale only at the ticket office of the place from 10 am. It was exactly 11 am. Among tears I called my mom so she could take me there. I couldn't believe we were given one more chance, and I was about to lose it. Plus, the tickets were extremely cheap. I saw the enormous line and I stood there. Seconds later a guy with a megaphone begins: tickets to Harry Styles are completely sold out. In that moment I broke to tears. It legit seems that the universe conspired so I couldn't go see him, my lovely boy, the one I have loved all my teenage years and still do with the same intensity now they're almost over. I went home, devastated. Eventually I calmed down and finally accepted it. Destiny, indeed, didn't want me to see him, to hear that familiar voice I knew years ago only through speakers or headphones. • A couple of days passed, he would be performing the next day. And it happened: all the news screamed the bomb attack at Manchester. The minute I saw it I didn't understand the magnitude of the occurred. Then, I realized. People, mostly teenagers, just like me were at the Ariana Grande concert. They were killed. 22 of them. 22 innocent people. 22 young lives that had so much ahead of them. I know it also would've mattered if it were any kind of people, because a human life is so valuable at every age, every size, every ethnicity, every religion, every nationality. The thing here is, concerts, for most of us, are supposed to be a safe place. A place where you forget about the distress of your daily lives. It is a moment you yearn for months, where you are supposed to feel at peace, watching and hearing a person you admire so deeply. Imagining those people waiting excitedly for that day to come, not knowing it would be the worse and in some cases, the last, saddens me immensely. The desperation I saw in social media of people trying to locate their loved ones or others announcing they were taken away by that atrocity someone did. It's been over one week. I still can't get it. There's no way I could ever understand why are there people like this. There's no peace in their hearts, no compassion, no love, there is nothing. I'm so sorry for every person that was at the concert that night. I am sorry for the people at Paris, at Brussels, at Aleppo, for every person in every corner of the world that has been a victim or that has been present of the senseless attacks that have been made by people with no sense of humanity. I wish peace could reign in this world among anything else that ills our world. I am so deeply sorry. It angers me I can't do anything. Changing my profile picture, tweeting a hashtag, writing "sorry" isn't going to solve anything. All I know is that there are more good people. People who know why they are here on Earth. To love, to feel loved, this includes every spectrum this word encompasses, meaning that love comes in all forms, there is no rule who to love. I can't wait for the day this foreign (for some) concept prevails. • The next day after the occurred, he was here, in my city, breathing the same air. I saw the videos. He came to the stage with a shaky voice, a steady look. He was trying to speak and all people did was scream. I know it wasn't all of them, but some did. He had a hand in his heart and was trying to speak from the bottom of it. He was clearly in pain knowing the occurred. He spent so many good times in that city. He was so sad. He only sang 5 songs. In the last one, Sign of the Times, I could see through the videos he was on the verge of crying. A hint of sadness hit me again. I am sorry his time here was blurred by the event, which I imagine, made his stay not as pleasant. I read one review. It angered because the girl wasn't a diehard fan of his. From what I read, yes, she "liked" his music but that's it, no emotion or profound love for Harry like some of us who couldn't go. Why would these people could? Many people deserved it way more. She seemed like a mature person (in terms of age and behavior) and was, at some point, criticizing fangirls. But one thing caught my attention. She said some girls only thing they did was scream. They weren't there to hear his voice or appreciate his artistry and songs, nor the emotion he put into singing and how much they meant to them because he was able to finally write them. They screamed at him, as if they were seeing the same kid in the boyband. Now I understand what that girl was pointing out. I guess it's the age they're in. I don't know where they were when Up All Night came out. Kindergarten maybe. They probably haven't seen how much he's changed and how he's evolved into the musician he's becoming, finally showing off his full and pure talent. But there's one good thing among all of this. He made a promise. He promised he would come back and do a full concert in Mexico. This flame keeps lighted in me. I'm holding on to his promise. He will be back and I will finally see him live, hear his voice, admire his raw talent, after so many years.
