He Used To Sing His Words

You don’t realize how much you have until it’s gone.

Everyone said that. But every time he thought of it, he knew it was worse than that. Because,

You don’t realize how much you have until it’s gone. And when it’s gone and you do realize it, it haunts you, forever.

Forever. Unless you’ve found something—or someone—better. He thought. But he knew he was never going to find someone better. He bit his lip, rolling his eyes in disbelief. It wasn’t as if he actually tried looking. He closed his eyes and opened them as soon as his image entered his mind. He gave up as soon as he started trying. Brendon gave up on everyone as soon as Ryan left him.

He had been lying on his bed since this afternoon, tossing his stress ball to the same spot on the ceiling over and over. Now it was dark outside; he noticed because he didn’t turn the lights on, his door half-open allowing only some light to enter from the dining room. It was beginning to feel cold as well, but he didn’t mind. He promised himself he wasn’t going to think of that kid who left him, or who left Panic. But here he was. Pathetic.

This is the only time in forever that you’re going to be idle Mr. Urie, and he still manages to get into your head. It’s been two long years. Snap out of it.

Brendon suddenly shot up to sitting position, knocking the Dr. Pepper he’d left earlier this morning at the side of his bed, and heaved a heavy sigh. His iPod just started playing Northern Downpour and it wasn’t helping him overcome his nonsense thinking. But as soon as he heard his own voice singing, he thought twice of touching his iPod. Something felt special about the song—or maybe not the song. Maybe it was him singing his words. He never knew how special it was until it seemed impossible to happen again.

Suddenly he wanted to sing Ryan’s words again. But he could. It wasn’t impossible at all. He could sing his words anytime. At this very moment, he could, and he did—

The ink is running toward the page
It's chasin' off the days
Look back at both feet
And that winding knee
I missed your—

He felt a fist through his stomach when he realized it wasn’t what he entirely wanted. It was only part of it. What did he want? To be with Ryan again? Who am I kidding? Even if he did want to be with him, Ryan left him. And there was no way Ryan would leave him if he felt the same way for him.

Brendon shuffled his hair with both hands, feeling like a complete idiot. Five years. He thought. Five years and I didn’t realize what I have until that very moment he told me they were leaving us.

Maybe it was his fault. Brendon. Maybe it was Brendon’s fault they left.

What the hell am I thinking? I didn’t do anything to them, did I?

But maybe, it really was his fault. Maybe he was an idiot for taking those five years for granted—even if he couldn’t convince himself of taking anything for granted. Or maybe that was how life was. Something good comes along, you don’t realize it, you take it for granted, it leaves you when you least expect it, and you realize how much you’ve lost, and you never stop thinking about it. Until something else comes along; the last part he thought may never happen in his case.

One moment they were with each other almost every day, the next thing he knew they’d never be seeing each other again.

He’d lost his lyricist, his band member, his friend, his buddy, his life, his Ryan.

He could never find someone better than him. For him, he was the best. Brendon was hopeless.

Unraveled words like moths upon old scarves
I know the world's a broken bone
But melt your headaches, call it home

However, it wasn’t the end. It wasn’t said that you’d have to find someone else that was better. He’d convinced himself he’d never find anyone better than Ryan. Maybe it meant that he must make himself a better person for Ryan.

It wasn’t the end. You may have lost something and it may haunt you forever, unless you find someone better, or you do something to get it back, and then you can make it better.

Brendon never knew he would, once again, thank Ryan’s words, and then himself for singing them again. Because before the song ended, knew what he just had to do. He thought that maybe, just like singing his own words, whatever he wanted was never really impossible.