To the girl who sat next to me at Taylor Swift's Reputation Tour,

You were sitting in the fifth row, with the stage right in front of you, almost close enough to touch. You were on your phone for the entirety of the show. I thought you might like to know what you missed.

Maybe you paid full price for those tickets, in which case I am sorry for the large amount of money you put to waste.

Or maybe, like me, you struck an enormous amount of luck and were approached by an event scout who offered you a ticket upgrade an hour before the show's start, in which case I am sorry to the unknown, dedicated, lifelong fan whose chance you probably stole.

Initially, as you stumbled down the rows because you were staring at your screen instead of the setting, you missed the eyes of multiple around you as we looked for the red wristband around your wrist. You know, to make sure you were really supposed to be on the floor, since you were acting like you weren't, you know, on the floor.

While you were busy waiting for Snapchat to load, the big screens rolled out a montage of no-truth newscasters, nothing-better-to-do critics, and self-absorbed, self-proclaimed "journalists" who harmonized in their foundation-less explanations of why, time and time again, Swift has failed to meet the criteria that they don't even meet themselves. The murmur of these recorded voices rolled underneath the electricity that filled the air- the electricity generated by 50,000 everyday people who somehow, time and time again, prove themselves more genuine than those who make a living trying to disprove this same quality in others.

While you were sending that smiling Snapchat, after the app loaded, of course, the other 50,000 people who decided to watch the stage instead of a screen lit up the entirety of Metlife Stadium. Not with their phones, and not with the complimentary, programmed, light up bracelets that each attendee was given, but with their smiles alone. Smiles that showed up for the right reasons.

You were busy taking a video (a video that required your phone to be obnoxiously close to my face and in my way, apparently) when Taylor came over and stood right in front of us, dancing, and laughing, and looking lovingly into the crowd of people who had come to share this experience.

Oh, just to be clear, the video was of yourself.

You were busy taking a video when she stopped to say hello, and everyone responded as a choir of excitement-filled voices to greet someone who had set and continues to set, an extraordinary example for people of all ages. You were probably one of the only voices missing from the choir.

You were still busy taking the same video when she said, thank you, from the bottom of her heart to every single person who had chosen to spend their Friday night with her, whether it be for the first time or for the next time of many.

Oh, just to be clear, the video was of yourself.

You were taking a new video of yourself, this time spinning in circles and enjoying your own company without realizing all of the times you half-fell into me, while the little girl in front of us spun in circles too, twisting and twirling the night away with her long braid trailing behind her. She was dancing on her chair, even though she wasn't supposed to because the woman in front of her was just a little too tall. Taylor was singing "Gorgeous", after referring to her audience as just that.

Did Snapchat say the same to you after you tried on every single one of the selfie filters?

During "Look What You Made Me Do", we all came together in opposition to the people who had done us wrong, and "we" includes Taylor. There was a sort of unity that filled the space as feelings of anger, frustration, and revenge were finally released after so many people had kept them bottled up for so long.

I don't know what planet you were on at this point, but maybe your Instagram story does.

Before performing "Delicate", Swift stopped to offer a speech that awed. She paced across the platform, discussing reputations, what these mean to us, and why we place the value on them that we do. She was candid, and commanding, and inherently compassionate, explaining her own struggles with a reputation that had created a whole new idea of who she was and what she intended. She was grounded, and humble, and open, readily admitting that this experience left her feeling lost.

She offered the advice that it doesn't matter who people take you to be when those people don't even know you. She offered the advice that as long as you feel understood by the people who do know you and the people who see you as a human being, that is all that matters. She thanked her audience for being the group of people who see her as a human being, and standing there, on stage alone with no backup dancers, no band, and no gimmicks, she was... human. In any and every other setting, there are cameras an guards and pedestals that follow her, but right then, as she stood in a setting that could easily have made her appear even more untouchable, she was simply human.

This was the only time that your Snapchat was open, but not in use, and it was only because you were facing the other way, yelling at the two fathers behind us who wouldn't stop shouting about football.

When Taylor climbed into her string-light strung basket and traveled over to the B-stage, it went right over your head. Literally.

After performing "Shake It Off" on a stage shared by her two openers, Charli XCX and Camila Cabello, she went acoustic, singing three songs accompanied just by her guitar- one of these being that evening's surprise song, "Welcome to New York". She then ran through the crowd from that stage to the next, offering hellos, high-fives, and handshakes to every screaming fan she passed along the way. She never stopped smiling.

Neither did you, but it was at your own reflection once again.

When she returned to the main stage and settled onto her piano bench to offer a slowed-down mix of "Long Live" and "New Year's Day", she once again hesitated to give a heartfelt word of appreciation to her fans, breaking into a smile as she sang the lyric "I had the time of my life with you".

Would it really have been so difficult for you to show even an ounce of the appreciation to her that she shows to her audiences night after night?

Her performance of "Getaway Car" brought her, again, right in front of us, as if she was simply dancing with the crowd instead of for the crowd.

You launched your camera forward, not to snap a quick picture of her while she stood literally right in front of you, but so you could get the perfect angle for your new Snapchat video, that featured you as the star performer. Again. Spinning in circles, waving your arms, hitting me. Repeatedly. You didn't care as long as you got that perfect video.

Closing out the show with "We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together" and her latest anthem for holding others accountable, "This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things", Taylor exuded confidence and comfort, influencing her crowd, the younger members of the crowd especially, to find the same within themselves.

When the show ended and it was time to say goodbye, Taylor once again returned to our part of the stage, taking her time to wave at every single sweeping section of the stadium. The crew took their bows, Taylor bowed, and you...

Well, you may as well have. It was quite a show.

The thing is, as distracting as you were, as annoying as it was to have your phone in my face for at least half of the show, you didn't take away from my experience. I had the time of my life. I didn't stop dancing, I didn't stop singing, and I didn't care what kind of looks I got from people because of the, uh, impressive? No. Graceful? Hmmmm.. no. Catchy????? Dance moves that I put on show.

I had been upgraded to the fifth row at a Taylor Swift concert, from seats in Section 313. I was in the fifth row at a Taylor Swift concert. The same Taylor Swift I'd looked up to since I was just 8 years old dancing around my room to "Teardrops On My Guitar." The same Taylor Swift I'd idolized when I was 10, learning to play "Love Story" on guitar and hoping to one day be as talented as her.

The same Taylor Swift I used to dream about seeing from fifth-row seats.

No, you didn't take away from my experience, because nothing, literally nothing, could have taken away from my experience. Nothing could have stopped me from having the time of my life.

You took away from your own experience. In fact, you robbed yourself of your own experience.

I am so sorry.