You Definitely Had to be There.

This morning, as I was waking up from another subpar night of sleep, I get a text from my boyfriend. 

His mom just told him that Panic! At The Disco broke up. 

At the time of reading this text, I wasn't full awake, so my first thought was, "Oh, another pre-split Panic!/Ryan Ross stan joke, tee fucking hee." 

But, unfortunately, a few hours later, as I'm sitting on my couch scrolling through Twitter, I see a screenshot from Instagram, an official letter from Brendon Urie himself, saying that Panic! At The Disco is no more. 

I call my boyfriend in tears. I feel like my teenhood just crumpled into a million pieces.

I know nobody likes Panic! or Brendon anymore, but here's a little context;

I started loving Panic! At The Disco when I was 13 years old. At the time, I had a terrible home life, I was going through puberty and a newly found anxiety disorder at the same, and I had little to no friends. 

When I fully started listening to Panic!, I couldn't shut up about them. I couldn't shut up about Brendon Urie. Him and his music truly gave me happiness and a sense of innocence when the rest of the world around me was against me. 

I don't care about what the rest of the world thinks. I will always have good memories with this man and this band. I don't base my opinions off of Twitter threads. 

With that being said, a few hours have passed, and it's made me think. 

Panic! is breaking up the same year I'm turning 20 years old. The year the suffix "-teen" is leaving my age. 

Maybe it's a sign from the universe that a new chapter is starting in my life, even though I thought it already started when my parents got divorced and we had to move across the country. Maybe this section of the chapter has to do with myself. My gender, my self image, my taste, my self expression. Just me, myself, and I. 

It might explain how my slight Black Veil Brides/Andy Biersack hyperfixiation came out of nowhere. 

Well, anyways, 

Mr. Brendon Boyd Urie, if in the one in million chance you're reading this, just know I wish you nothing but the best for you and your family. Thank you for raising me when my parents didn't and when I had no real life friends. I will always love you and your music, you and Panic! At The Disco will always have a special place in my heart. 

Here's to happier days, and who knows, maybe someday you'll go solo. Until then, here's to us having a lot more growing up to do. 

xoxo, always and forever, 

~Phantom Elijah Black