Egress

hello, old friend
I have a confession to make
I know it’s been a while
so I won’t take too much of your time

earlier today,
I met them again
and it pains me to say
that I gave in and cheated

I know I got myself in this mess
but no matter how hard i looked
I couldn’t find the way out
and it left me broken, defeated

am I really that much of a coward
to have tried and forced an exit
when all I see in front of me
are walls with no windows, no doors

how could this be called fairness
when every path I’ve paved
are etched deep in my skin
buried with my hopes and dreams

and why is everything still the same
when I’ve sacrificed all that I could
thrown away all that I am
to get a taste of this bliss that I long to have

when will I get to feel your embrace
so I can finally be released
from this useless existence
that gives me nothing but dread

A Hand-delivered Love Letter

May 2009
A band I hadn’t seen before suddenly played on MTV.
Fresh faces with a sound that was both familiar and new teased my ears. The music video didn’t make a lot of sense, but one thing became clear that night as I scribbled their name on the back of my paperback mystery book: I’d found a new band to add to my then-emo playlist.

May 2024
Fast forward 15 years later, and I’m standing in front of the stage where said band will be performing in a few minutes.
Months and months and months of waiting melted away as I held my breath in anticipation. Then a single word went up on the screens:

All of a sudden, the dams broke, and I found myself transported to the 16-year-old me in front of our 19″ tube TV, watching Dear Maria, Count Me In for the first time.
Yes, I felt younger, but at the same time, I was worldly, tested by time.

The show opened up with Tell Me I’m Alive on keyboard, and I have never felt so alive.
Thank the heavens for the darkness and the multitude of people cramped in that space. I was ugly-crying while singing and laughing, and trust me, it wasn’t a pretty sight.

The show went on for two hours with the band blasting out songs from their past to the present. Just when I thought I’d been swallowed up whole by the corporate world, there I was, singing along with every song, shouting all the lyrics (correctly, if I might add, and yes, super proud of myself because of this), while also finding myself mesmerized with how glorious Alex and the band were.


As I lost myself in that moment, I couldn’t help but feel as though I’d finally forgiven myself for everything I did in the past.

I’ve always been the type to suppress myself and make unnecessary sacrifices, not because I’m kind or selfless, but because I have always chosen to punish myself for everything I did wrong. Anything that made me happy had to be done in moderation for fear of overindulging myself when I didn’t even deserve to have those moments. Guilty pleasures were exactly that – brief moments of joy that made me guilty, as I knew that I only deserved the worst.

For the first time in a long while, I sincerely looked forward to the future.

This might come off as something unexpected, but I’m not someone who makes long-term plans simply because I don’t see myself living that long – either due to an illness or because of yours truly. Yes, I have always had issues with self-harm and those unaliving thoughts for as long as I can remember.

But not then – all those feelings of not existing anymore went out the window. All I could think of were:
I want to live.
I want to live much longer.
I want to be healthy.
I want to write again.
I want to listen to more of your songs.
I want to sing your songs everyday.
I’m going to start learning and playing the guitar and ukulele again.
I want to see you again.

As the show closed off with the very first song I heard from you, I was reminded of how everything happens for a reason and how everything becomes beautiful when the pieces start falling into place.

While I may have only been another shadow in the sea of faces last Saturday, I felt heard, comforted, loved, understood.
I hope my undelivered love letter from many years ago has made its way to you.
Thank you for your music, and thank you for saving me.

I will be here to support and appreciate you – forever.