That's all it was.
A place where people could enjoy music, friends, and escape the craziness of reality - until it came to them.
I was at a concert on October 1st - thankfully, hundreds of miles away in Texas - but my head has traveled to that "what if" space. I've even seen Jason Aldean live - in a very similar setup, right outside the Dallas Omni hotel.
I can't imagine.
And yet I can.
For the friends and families of the 59 people who lost their lives, I don't have to totally imagine what they're going through. Because I know. I am well-versed in the road they face, because I've already walked it. I've felt the pain and the anguish and the frustration.
I wish I could say it goes away.
But it doesn't.
It gets easier to manage, but then life goes on, nothing changes, and the worst of the world unfolds in yet another neighborhood. And it all comes back.
I felt sick when I heard about the concert shooting. It seems you can't go anywhere anymore without knowing it could happen - and it probably has - a concert, a school, a movie theater.
The videos that conspiracy theorists point to for proof of a faked shooting or to find something where there is nothing - they hurt. It wasn't my loved one this time, but the sounds of that gun were sickening. It's the sound of a weapon similar to the ones I've been told killed my best friend.
So I know. And I hurt. And I wish there were something, anything I could do for those left behind. I will never know exactly what the families are going through - to have someone you've loved their whole life taken away - it breaks my heart.
But the friends. I understand them.
When you're single and in your 20s, friends are your other family. You know the ones you know you can trust with just about anything - and who will pick you up when you don't want the world to see you fall.
That was Jess for me.
Having her ripped away in such a public, tragic, senseless way was one of the most painful things I think I will ever face.
To the friends of those killed - and even those recovering: you may not believe it, but you will find strength you never knew you had. I've heard it for years. I still don't always believe it, but I know what I've been through isn't for the faint of heart.
You may think you don't need help - but don't be afraid to get it. Sometimes I wish I had. I've been okay, but I wonder if I could be better.
If you feel guilty - don't. You can't change what happened. You didn't pull that trigger. And the friend you lost or are helping fight their way back - they need you. The person they love, not the guilt you feel. I've felt so much survivor's guilt over the years - I wasn't there, I didn't tell her I loved her one last time, I made it to another birthday and she didn't. It's been five years and I still have to tell myself that there's nothing I could do. And I shouldn't feel guilty, because Jess would want me to be happy. She would want me to LIVE.
There will be things that are hard to face. I struggled going back into a movie theater - heck, I still mentally prepare myself. I have moments of panic in crowds - not all the time, just randomly. I've cried at the sound of a BB/pellet gun game at the fair - just flat out went from laughing to crying my eyes out in about 10 seconds. Monday morning, I skipped a trip to the fair because the last place I wanted to be was in a crowd.
But I won't hide. Because the person who took Jess' life doesn't control me from a prison cell. I hope you won't let the person who did this to your friend control you. That's not living. And you have to live.
Go back to a concert. Sing loud and dance if you want. Don't let the fear of what happened once stop you from doing something you love.
And take life one day at a time. Because we're not promised tomorrow. But we still have today.
