I think it’s rather appropriate that Keith Urban’s tour is called “Escape Together.” That is just what Matt and I did when we went to see the show at the Tacoma Dome. Even though we never left town, the concert offered us an escape from the outside world.

I have always loved concerts. I still remember how I felt the first time I went to a concert as a teenager (which was also at the Tacoma Dome). I looked around the arena at the thousands of people, gathered from different places, all with their separate lives and stories, and felt connected to something larger. No matter where we were earlier in the day, we were all there at that moment with the same music pulsing through us. It was one of those awe-inspiring moments when you are privileged with a different perspective of yourself and those around you.

Ever since, I have been almost addicted to concerts. I love their energy. The suspense and excitement that hangs in the air with the smoky fog before a show. The levity. The unity. It’s hard to replicate.

I’ve had the chance to go backstage before, during, and after concerts several times before, and I think this has spoiled me. It’s difficult for me to go to a show now and not have a front row seat or be allowed backstage. I want to be close to the energy, to have a part in creating it, even if in a small way. I like to see the forces driving the event. The thousands of little pieces that fall into place to make one show run smoothly. I want to be in on the action.

So I will admit I was a little disheartened when Matt and I logged on to Ticketmaster to buy tickets for the show the day they came on sale and the best available seats were in the very back row. I don’t think I’ve ever been that far back before, and I wasn’t quite sure how much I would be able to enjoy the show at that distance.

Matt and I arrived at the concert nearly two hours before it started. I remembered my parents saying how crazy the Dome was when they went to a concert there, so I figured it would be good to allow plenty of time. When we walked in, the place was empty. We grabbed some snacks, found our seats, and just hung out together before the show.

It may seem ridiculous to spend that much time just sitting around, but I enjoyed it. It actually meant a lot to me to have that quiet time with Matt to just sit and chat. It often takes me a while to transition from one activity to the next–usually my head is still focused on previous events or things I think I should be doing. Getting there early gave me enough time to get excited and focused on what we were doing in the moment.

Maybe that was why I was so loosened up by the time the concert started. I can’t remember the last time I was so relaxed and had such a good time at a concert. The fact that our seats were all the way in the back? Didn’t matter. Actually, I think it helped. With hardly anyone behind us, I could focus on what was in front of me. And who was beside me.

In “Saving Your Marriage Before it Starts” by Les and Leslie Parrott, they claim that shared activity is a big way that men bond.  But I don’t think the bonding benefits of shared activity are limited to men. I enjoy it, too. Every time we do something together we are “making memories of us” (to aptly quote a Keith Urban song). I still look back at the times we have cooked, traveled, or danced together and feel so connected to Matt.

Standing at the back of the arena, my sense of connectedness came from my proximity to Matt, not the stage. As we sang, danced, cuddled, and clapped, we created a memory that will always draw us closer. And looking around the arena gave me a clear picture: out of a pool of thousands, millions of people, we found each other. We were meant to be together, and we always will be.