As I watched her from afar, I rejoiced in every note sung, string picked, word said, and smile flashed. But slowly, as the original exhilaration died down, I realized that I'm just one in 14,000 and while her influence shaped my life, my existence was unknown to her.
I was one in a crowd.
My individuality disappeared in the equally enthused faces of the mob around me.
There was no way she would notice me.
No way her eyes would meet mine and acknowledge mutual adoration, because there was no mutual adoration.
I was one in a crowd.
Every eloquent lyric she wrote meant the world to me and had been the soundtrack to my life, through heartbreak, happiness and hell.
But she wouldn't be impressed with my amateur works created in lonely afternoons when it's me, the couch, and the guitar.
Only a few can make it big.
And I'm one in a crowd.
Every car-ride-jam-sesh, and every late-night-crying-sesh had been dedicated to her.
Every moment of anticipation and excitement had enriched my life.
Every dollar spent had been a dollar well placed.
Every tweet of praise or attribution felt good, but by sheer volume, had gone completely unnoticed.
I was not special.
And because millions of other people became the same as me,
she became special.
Because she had a crowd.