Beach House, once again.

(via hippiesaredead)

Yes, I saw Beach House for the third time last night; I refuse to break this addiction. They were the second opening band for The Walkmen (playing after Johnny and the Moon). Really great, as always. As were The Walkmen and Johnny and the Moon, but, come on, I was there for Beach House.

I went to the show with C. I was a bit apprehensive about going with him, at first. It’d been weeks since we last saw or spoke to each other and I was afraid it’d feel like we were strangers and that it’d be awkward. But it didn’t feel that way at all. It almost felt as though things hadn’t changed, though they obviously have.

I won’t deny that I still have feelings for him. But rather than feeling any sense of longing or sadness when I was with him (or even today, the day after), I felt acceptance, and happiness, because I really do enjoy his company.

After the show, we went back to his place where we made pasta as he strummed on the guitar. Then I went home.

It was fun.