04th Nov 2009
Wednesday // 1pm // 1 month ago
"can i have a hi-hi-high five?"
today is november 4th, 2009. it’s been exactly one year since i met them. it seems like it was only yesterday i was waiting in line, pacing up and down cold sidewalks, about to meet my heroes. i’ve changed, my hair is longer, i’m somewhat less stout, and i’m smarter and taller and probably more of a bitch.
this is something i’ve been working on since june 16th, 2009. so, yeah, i started it before the split, which kinda explains my dramatic middle about the split. anyway, i finally finished it, just in time for my one year panic anniversary. i’ve stayed up hours at night, writing in my notebook and crying as i recall all the memories. sorry if some things don’t make sense, but really, most of the time i was crying as i wrote this and it was sometime between midnight and four in the morning, so i wasn’t at my writing prime at that time. it’s definitely very personal to me. veryveryveryvery personal and most of the time, i probably sound creepy as shit in this, but honestly, i tried to make it as uncreepy as possible. please don’t say anything too mean about it, if you say anything at all, because i worked very hard on this and it is pretty much my entire panic at the disco life story thing, so obviously it means a lot to me. it’s about 4000 words long, five or six pages in a notebook, front and back. it’s not THAT long, but it’s long enough. i could keep going on and on and on and on about them for hours but i doubt you want that, so i tried to make this like, strictly factual, which kind of failed. but yeah. anyway, i’m going to shut up now and let you read this:
The first thing I thought when I learned that it was even a possibility that I could meet Panic was, “I’m going to get my hopes up, and even if I do meet them, something will go wrong.” I’m a bit of a pessimist but normally, I just try to tell things how they are. When I found out that I would be meeting them, (I believe it was October 27, 2008, they didn’t give me much warning) I thought, “They’re going to be jerks.” I didn’t really believe it - somehow I knew that it would be fine. I always assume everything will be okay in the back of my mind, but I appear to be a big cynic to everyone else. Sure, I put myself down and act like I don’t expect anything to be okay, but truly, I’m always getting my hopes up.
I first heard Panic At The Disco in 2005, when I lived in New Orleans. My older friend/neighbor, Katie, liked them but I never really took a notice of it. I remember hearing ‘I Write Sins Not Tragedies’ on Yahoo Radio and being like, “Oh, wow, I love this.” After leaving Louisiana, because of Hurricane Katrina, which flooded my house, I moved to South Carolina where I heard the song again, this time on AOL Music. They had some bizarre live video of it, in a room with yellow and black and orange circles on the wall. Brent was still in the band and Ryan looked like a girl. That was the day I first heard The Only Difference Between Matrydom and Suicide Is The Press Coverage and then fell in love. After a while though, I forgot about them, though I don’t really remember why or how anyone could forget about Panic At The Disco.
If you didn’t already know, my mom is an alcoholic. I don’t know what happened but one day, in the summer of 2007, I looked up Panic! on YouTube and heard Camisado for the first time. I remember reading about Ryan’s dad and listen to that song over and over, crying because, I wasn’t the only one. It felt good to have something that’s affected me so much in common with someone who is as talented as Ryan Ross. From that day on, I was a completely different person. I listened to Panic! every day on YouTube and got their CD, A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out, for Christmas that year.
After that, I started changing. My mom finally let me dye my hair black like I’ve always wanted to do and surprisingly, it suited me. I started listening to music that wasn’t on the radio. I started wearing makeup and clothes that got me labeled as ‘emo’. My teachers would call me ‘Mrs. Panic’ because everyone knew how much I loved them. Some people would call me a fangirl because I was only 11 or so and I liked a band, but it was never because of their looks. Honestly, at first, I thought they were all hideous and that Brendon was creepy.
It would be an understatement to say this band changed me. They not only changed me but transformed me and ended up making me who I am today. In the beginning, they were just a band, but now, two years later, they’re my family away from home. There is not a moment where I’m not thinking about them, watching a video of them, looking at pictures of them, listening to their music, writing about them, checking their twitters, reading about them, talking about them, singing their music, wearing their merchandise , watching their interviews, anything. Sometimes I wonder who I’d be if I never listened to I Write Sins Not Tragedies, but I don’t really want to know. I’m actually terrified to know; I can’t imagine myself without them. The fact is, addiction runs in my family but I never thought that, while my sister was addicted to drugs or my mom was addicted to alcohol, I’d be addicted to a band. It hit me and caught me completely off guard, like a sucker punch, and now look where I am.
I heard Pretty. Odd. on March 20, 2008 at around 7:30 PM. It was storming at my house and my internet connection was unsteady, but somehow, I got to hear the entire CD on MTV Leak before the night was over. About a month later, April 26, I saw them live on another damp night at the Masquerade in Atlanta. When I left the show, I couldn’t breathe. Ironically, I had my first two panic attacks that night - one before the show and one after. It blew me away. I was changed; somehow they transformed me again. Sometime during the show, before I Write Sins, Brendon said, “This song has been known to make it rain!” That’s always stuck with me. The song rained in my life, as stupid as that sounds. If it wasn’t for that song, that stupid little song about ‘closing the god damn door’, I would either…be dead or be a completely different person. Before this band, I never belonged anywhere, I never had experienced true bliss before. I always known as the smart geeky kid who was probably going to be something great one day, but I never wanted that. I didn’t know what exactly I wanted or what I liked until one day, I came across fan fiction. My family, maybe even my friends, would say it’s disturbing, probably the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, but honestly, I think it’s one of the best. Not because I like writing cliché stories about Brendon and Ryan falling in love with each other, but because I finally found where I belong. From that day on, I knew who I was. A writer. One day I am going to grow up and write. My writing has got me in trouble more than a couple times, but I don’t care. It’s me. It’s who I am. It’s what i do. It’s possibly the only thing I do right. I’m not stopping for anyone.
2008 was a hard year for me. But Panic was always there to cheer me up. I could cry along to their songs or dance or sing or just relax. They were just always there. Ryan was my favorite for a while because, face it, his band, his lyrics, he saved my life. I could relate to him in so many ways and he was just my number one hero. But then something happened and he couldn’t save me anymore. He started drinking, he started doing weed, and got new friends. I told myself that it was okay, as long as he’s happy, it’s okay. After all, it’s his life, not mine, but that didn’t stop the pain or worry, because I knew about this shit, I knew what it could do to people. I was disappointed in him, but somehow, when I met him, I was still nervous and absolutely thrilled. That never changed.
When I met them, everything was so surreal. That’s the only word I can come up with to describe it. My nerves practically tore me apart as I waited to meet them, my favorite band, my heroes. The second they walked in though, I felt…flushed. Talking to them, I always felt perfect, contented, comfortable, like I really did belong here. My entire world stopped though when I came to Ryan in the line. He was last. I stuttered, I rambled, and in the end, as I walked away, I started crying and ran into a wall and then a gurney they set up in case anyone fainted. My mind raced, my heart pounded. They were all so perfect - it’s completely different to see them on a computer screen and then in real life, none of that shows how beautiful they are. I was in a whole other world. For once in my life, I felt complete.
I was in line to get my picture with them. I was almost next. Zack was taking a picture of them and someone else and I was getting my camera ready, when I noticed Jon Walker looking at me. I swear, maybe I’m fanatical, but he was smiling at me. There was someone else in front of me, and my mom behind me, but he was looking at me, while I wasn’t looking at him. It could have been because of my shirt, or it could have just been that I’d mistaken him smiling at someone else for smiling at me, but it felt so real and I have never felt as amazing as I did in that moment ever. Once again, I was changed by this band, just that easily.
I have put into thought a million times exactly why Panic At The Disco means so much to me, why exactly they’re so extraordinary and recently, I think I’ve found out why. They’re not perfect in the way that they have no flaws, but their flaws make me adore them more, because I have the same ones. Ryan and I have the alcoholic parent in common - even though his father ended up dying - along with the writing thing. From what I’ve heard, he’s self conscious about his weight, and so am I, except for the opposite reason. Brendon sweats like mad all the time, and I do too. Spencer is a little chubby, and I am too, except quite a bit more than him. This all together makes up me. They are me only, better, bigger, beautiful.
One person I can’t find fault in though is Jon Walker. He is perfect. I would never change a thing about him in the world. I don’t know what my feelings for him are considered, but it’s something big, and it scares me. He’s become my life, my savoir, almost like Ryan was, except so much more than that. No matter where I am, no matter what I’m doing, he’s on my mind. There is nothing he can do that will make me hate him. He makes me smile when no one else can and he doesn’t even have to try. He doesn’t know me but he’s the highlight of my day, every single day. I don’t know what I’d be without him, because I look to him when I feel hopeless. I look to him when I wish I were dead and I remember his smile. He gave me a smile, so I can’t be that dreadful. One day, I hope I can tell him that he saved me and keeps on saving me. I know I have a one in a zillion chance with him, if that, especially since I’m roughly 10.26 years younger than him and he’s faultless. I just want to be friends with him, to know what it feels like to have your phone ring and say, “Jon,” and be the one who he calls when he’s sad or bored or if he has good news. I want to be there for him just in case he is ever down, because I don’t know if I can take seeing him sad. He deserves anything but that and I just want to save him from pain at all costs. He saved me, so why can’t I save him? Even if he is never in pain like I was, he doesn’t deserve any pain at all. It’s just not fair and I don’t know why God lets all the incredible people hurt. It’s something I will never understand.
After I started feeling some of those feelings, I did a test. A few days before my mom and other family members commented on how much I smiled when I was listening to Pretty. Odd. Curious if I smiled the same while I was listening to A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out, I got my mom to play it in the car randomly when I wasn’t really paying attention. I had absolutely no reaction. At first, I assumed it was because Fever is generally a sadder album than Pretty. Odd., but a little later I downloaded some Farewell Night songs (Jon’s old band) and I was listening to them on my iPod on the way to church one day, when my mom said, “you must be listening to Pretty. Odd., you’re got that look.” I hadn’t even realized it, but I was grinning ridiculously big and really, I don’t smile that much ever - definitely not that big, anyway, even when I do. That was when I understood that it was Jon. All Jon. The thought really frightened me at first and it still does. Why did it have to be him? Why did it have to be me? Listening to the Farewell Night songs hurt, after hearing the lyrics that talk of scars and pains and fears; everything I never ever ever wanted for him.
When Jon got a Twitter, things changed a little. I got a peek into his life. I saw his thoughts. I knew what he liked. But sometimes he sounds so sad, sullen, melancholy, and just sort of, broken. I’m still kind of clueless about my feelings, still trying to sort things out, because it never was ‘love at first sight’. He was invisible to me at first. I guess I didn’t know what I was missing out on. One tweet always sticks out of me the most, even when I’m perplexed. Reading it now makes me cry as hard as it did the first time, if not even harder. That tweet was, “what matters to me is what I could mean to one girl.” It was like he read my mind. Then I started thinking more realistically, like maybe he was quoting a song or a book or something. Or maybe all that matters to him is what a specific girl, Cassie probably, thinks of him. Or maybe somehow he just knew that he has saved me from myself, somehow he actually cares about what he truly means to me. Whatever he meant, whatever possessed him to write that, completely moved me, though. It came off as subtle, even sweet, slightly mysterious, but completely precious and changed my feelings for him even more.
Now let’s skip to July 6, 2009 around 1:30 in the afternoon. I was having a great morning. I went to go check the boys’ twitters before I took a shower, because I just had this feeling. Something was wrong on twitter, people were getting mad at Jon and Ryan and I honestly had no idea why. I immediately went to Panic’s livejournal community and read the note that was posted on their website. my first reaction was, “NO!” I literally screamed no at my computer for a few seconds, feeling my knees buckle beneath me and my heart race. I knew that eventually something like this would happen, but I never thought it’d happen…now, you know? I don’t know if I’m the only one or this is even a moderately normal reaction, but whenever something bad happens, no matter how much I expected it, it still puts me in shock. Nothing ever happens ‘now’, does that make sense? It just took me off guard that, wow, Jon and Ryan left. My entire world went into turmoil. I honestly had never felt so hopeless in my life. One of the hardest parts was crying in front of my mom. It was the first time I ever burst into tears anywhere near her. She never said sorry, no one did. I just cried for days and days and days.
The worst day of all, was the next day, the seventh. Looking back , I don’t ever remember crying as hard as I did that day. That was also when I saw the picture of Ryan and the cocaine. All the heartbreak built up and I just felt entirely broken. If you think about it, two guys leaving a band seems like nothing. There are so many worse things going on every single day. I felt silly, bratty, and childish for feeling so lost over a band splitting up, but as I’ve said before, these guys are not just a band to me. They are my world and sometimes I regret ever hearing that stupid song about a wedding, a whore, and shutting doors. But the way everything worked out, just seemed like, I don’t know…fate. Like I was supposed to fall in love with Panic At The Disco, once upon a time.
There has not been a day, not a moment, since they broke up where I haven’t felt some kind of pain, some kind of loneliness. I’m constantly thinking, “what’s next? Where do I go now that I’ve lost the only thing I thought I’d never lose?” The truth is that no band last forever, but why did it have to be now when I realized that?
Panic At The Disco was always the one constant thing that could never go wrong. Sure there were rough patches along the way - when I get called out for being too obsessed or when my mom read my slash, for example - but they were always there when I needed them, even when my friends weren’t. I wasn’t around them to see their flaws and they didn’t know me to hate me like everyone else, so it was perfect. They would never leave me, or so I thought. I know I was being naive, acting like I’m too blind to see that they aren’t the kind of people I should look up to, especially to trust with my life or my happiness, but they were the easiest thing and I loved them, I still do, I always will. They’ll always be the people that saved me and changed my life so much. It has just been so hard to accept that they broke up and maybe aren’t friends anymore, because I was just figuring out why I love them as people, as friends, so much.
They accept their flaws as friends. They don’t pick on Brendon for sweating a lot. They don’t call Spencer fat, because he’s a little overweight, and so on. I think that if I were older and extremely lucky, I may have a chance to be friends with them, because they accepted the fault is have among themselves. And now they’re gone, broken up, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s because they’re not good enough for each other, and maybe they’d leave me if I was friends with them too. But of course, that’s just me being preposterous and way too thoughtful.
You see, I over think things a lot and I often get my feelings hurt. I cry at least once a day. Pain used to give me a disgusting feeling of satisfaction, but then, I found hope. Panic At The Disco gave me hope when I was barely hanging onto a thread of life. I found myself because of them. I still be lost, faking my life away if it weren’t for them, and in one way or another, I’m watching them grow up as I do too. They may be older than me by 8-10 years, but I understand them, I can relate to them more than I can relate to most of my friends.
It isn’t easy loving them or even liking them at all. You get so much crap just for liking a little ‘teenie emo band’, which is certainly not the right label for PATD . They don’t have a genre, both of their albums are so distinctive, unlike any other I have ever heard. I think that’s what attracted me to them in the first place. They aren’t your typical rock band, if you can call them that at all. They’re so much more and I am so concerned that they’re going to focus now on sounding a certain way so much that it will suck their talent and uniqueness right away. I still want, need, to have this music to be something to me, to have that special sparkle that only the four boys of Panic At The Disco has.
Thinking back through all the stuff I went through for this band of four young guys makes me sound so stupid. It’s true when people say love makes you blind, I definitely can see that now. I’ve spent so many hours hoping, pretending, assuming that they are perfect people and aren’t snobby rock stars but in all truth, no one really knows how they are in real life, but them. They can act a certain way in front of cameras and fans, but are probably completely different when they’re alone. I’ve gotten in so many fights, had so much pain, lost lovers, gotten made fun of, been hated, lost people I’ve been friends with for years, spent money, and so many other things because of Panic At The Disco, but I’m still not willing to give any of it up. In all honesty, I can’t love a person the right way because of them. They’re my entire life and sometimes nothing hurts worse than to know that there are these four perfect people out there and they may never say hi to me again. But even though I’ll always want moremoremore from them and I’ll probably never get any of it, I just want everyone to know that I love them and I’d be dead without them. I wish people would understand that sometimes I don’t want this - I never expected to have my life revolve around a band like this, but they do and it’s who I am, it’s what I like, and it’s what I live for. Sure, I’m probably way too obsessed, but I can’t help it now and you truly do not have to tell me what I already know.
It’s been a year now since we met. Exactly. I have their signatures framed professionally on my wall. I love them all more than ever - both Panic At The Disco and The Young Veins. I have a picture of Jon and I laying beside my bed so that I can look at it when I’m crying and think about how he grinned at me. Often, I make fun of Ryan (or Ross as I picked up a habit of calling him) but it’s only because I love him and he makes me laugh. My feelings for them have only intensified since I met them, which I never thought would be possible a year ago.
Now that I look back on the split, I’m glad they did it, as hard as it was for me. It really upset me at first and I do miss old Panic, but I know that they are happier now and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for them - to be as happy as they make me. They’re four beautiful, brilliant, marvelous people and they deserve more than this world can give them.
I’m constantly worried that if they ever knew how much they mean to me they’d hate me and call me crazy, but I really wish I could find a way to tell them thank you for everything. November 4th, 2008 was the best day of my life and I wouldn’t have survived the past year without Jon Walker giving me that smile. I can’t put into words everything they mean to me. I just wish that I could find a way to say everything I’m thinking without sounding absurd, insane, or obsessed, but I guess I am.
I love you guys with all of my heart. You are my heroes, my family, my world, my boys, and my life. Thank you for being yourselves and teaching me that it’s okay to have flaws. In fact, your flaws are what make you who you are. Please never stop doing what makes you happy, because when you’re happy, so am I. I couldn’t have carried on the last few years without you guys to keep me happy. And I know this is ludicrous but I needed you. I still do. You are what keep me sane and okay with being alive. I don’t just want to say thank you, but I don’t know what else I can say.
i like your smile.
