tired eyes

I will always be thankful for the entire journey that led me here.

I got to see them with my own eyes. I got to hear Tyler sing, hear Josh yell an-nyŏng-ha-se-yo. I got to hear the drums pounding. I saw the masks. I screamed so loud my throat hurt. I closed my eyes to hear 20,001 people singing “I know it’s hard sometimes.” I watched Josh attack the drums for an entire song. I swear he looked up at me when I waved. He pointed his drumstick straight at me.

I heard Migraine. I heard The Hype. I heard Truce. I heard Fall Away feat. Dr Blum. The live rendition of that video I must have watched a thousand times. I heard every late-night, summer morning, winter afternoon lyric I’ve loved. We jumped in the seated section, Tyler told us a funny story, confetti rained down from everywhere.

Everyone was dressed up, even the parents. The music was so loud I could feel it in my chest. My dad and I got scared every time the explosions happened and it made us laugh. When the fire effects went up, we could feel the heat on our faces.

Tyler sang Tear in my Heart to his wife. And Stressed Out. And Smithereens. Josh smiled and his hair was as brown and fluffy as ever. He threw drumsticks into the crowd. I couldn’t think of anything bad. My heart was full and nothing mattered; I was home.

It still hasn’t registered-- that I saw them live, and I sang the songs with them. I still feel like I’m in shock, like I’m in a good dream, like I shouldn’t have a tour poster and a creased ticket thumb-tacked to my bedroom wall.

There’s so much more I want to say about where they came from. Where I came from. How far we’ve gone. One short post is nothing in comparison to all the words inside of me. But I know I don’t need to worry about it. What a beautiful thing. Because you know what I mean. 

I could write a thousand poems about it. But I’ve already written so many-- you know where to find them.

Thank you for sticking around.

I love you all.

tomorrow i finally get to see the broken boy, the blue and green, the bruised mind, the give-up-everything story that told me i can still create through this.

tomorrow i get to hear the lemonade sunset, pink carbonated Migraine that helped me through so many afternoon drives when i didn’t  know myself.

tomorrow i embrace yellow-gold-dusk colored music: The Hype, the song that makes everything in my chest feel all right again, the single song soundtrack to the past year, all the reasons i smile.