And just like that, the second anniversary of Spencer’s death was right around the corner, only one month away. Let’s just say I still haven’t completely gotten over it, yet. Actually, I didn’t think I would ever get over it. How could I?

Every night I relived her death in my nightmares. The image of her precious blood splattered on the rustic floors was stained in my mind for eternity and was enough to send me into a fit.


Her death was horrific, but that didn’t keep me from thinking about our very short time of happiness. I didn’t only have nightmares; I had dreams, too. I forced myself to think about the good things; otherwise I would fall deeper and deeper into my already escalated depression. So, I dreamt about her pretty face, her outgoing personality… I always liked to think about the time we went mini-golfing with Tony and Mike, when she wore my clothes and playfully licked ice cream off of my face. She was so happy in those moments, and I couldn't help but notice that she was happiest when I was by her side. For me, I was happiest when she was with me, and I knew that feeling was reciprocated.


I sat inside of the tour bus and put my headphones on. I put our song on repeat and blasted it. We recorded it with Jason Butler, and it really was fantastic. Memories flooded my mind, and I felt tears trickle down my face. I couldn’t help it. I was weak. The song really came alive, embodying the precise way I envisioned it from the very beginning.


I know you’re tortured within…


I looked at my hand, flexing it a little. I smiled slightly, remembering how many times Spencer held my hand. Her small hand fit perfectly in mine, and I never wanted to let go. We had this special connection, and it unexplainable, but it made me want to always hold her hand. We clutched to each other in the darkest of our times, afraid of losing each other.


But you lost her, anyway.


That damn voice. It was back, and it was malicious. It was always reminding me that I could no longer hold her hand. I could no longer surprise her with a kiss. I could no longer sit on the beach with her and talk for hours whilst sipping on a CapriSun.


I could only sit here, listening to the song that brought every single memory back, and wallow in the bottomless pit of grief.


“Hey, dude, we have sound check,” Tony tapped on my shoulder. I nodded, turning my music off. Tony didn’t even bother asking if I was okay; no one bothered asking, anymore. I was trapped under a heavy and suffocating depression, which temporarily lifted while I played shows, but it crashed back on me every moment I was alone.


The past few months have been hectic with the release of our new album; I felt like we were working on this album for so long, and it really did turn out good. The music made me feel so much better, and touring was a great distraction.


The days meshed together and every minute went by so fast. Before I knew it, I was standing on the side of the stage, getting amped up to play the show. This was my only source of happiness. Even though singing some of the songs was painful because she was everywhere in them, I felt a real connection with the crowd that healed my broken heart.


“Hey, San Antonio!” I smiled at the large Texas crowd. The vibe from them was incredible, and for just a minute all pain was washed away. Their beautiful faces imprinted on my soul; they were here for the music, and so was I.


The beginning of our set list was heavier and energetic, and now it was time to break it down a little.


“Alright. So, uh, we’re going to play this acoustic for the sole purpose that I want to hear all your beautiful voices singing this with me; can you do that for me?” I asked the crowd, and they responded with cheers. “You guys ready to sing, San Antonio?” I smiled as they cheered even louder. “Alright. Let’s hear it! This song is called “I’m Low On Gas And You Need A Jacket”,” I said, and then I began to strum on the acoustic guitar.


“As I choke, tried to wash you down with something strong.
Dry, but the taste of blood remains”


The image of Spencer’s spilled blood flashed across my mind.


“Cold, empty mattresses and falling stars.
My, how they start to look the same.”


Spencer’s soft giggle echoed through my head, and I remembered the way she had pleasantly squealed at the way the San Diego stars danced in the dark night sky. Now she was in the stars, hopefully dancing, and my bed was cold and empty.


“So keep in happiness
And torture me while I tell you,
‘Let’s go in style’.
A million hooks around a million ways to die!
Darling, it’s cold outside.”


I internally flinched as the memory of the bullet piercing her skull flickered in my head. There were so many different ways she could have died, but that was her poison. At least she went in style; at least she died protecting those who she loved. Maybe she didn’t need to die then, but Death had his hooks in her.


“No, no more eyes to see the sun.
You slide into bed while I get drunk.”


Sometimes late at night I could feel her presence. She promised me that she would always be next to me when I was asleep, so I knew that when I was wasted and passed out in my bed she was taking care of me.


“Slow conversations with a gun
Mean more than I’ve ever said to anyone, anyone!”


God damned gun.


“So keep in happiness
And torture me while I tell you,
‘Let’s go in style’.
A million hooks around a million ways to die.
Darling, let’s go inside.”


The crowd was singing at the top of their lungs. It was beautiful, heart warming, and heart wrenching at the same time.


“It’ll be all right,” I sang, partially believing the words myself. Maybe I wouldn’t be all right, but I had to make sure these incredible people before me would. Maybe I was a hypocrite, but sometimes you just couldn’t follow the advice you give to others, no matter how hard you tried.


I slowed down the guitar playing for a second, stepping away from the microphone. God, Vic, why are you so weak?


I shook my head, allowing the tears to fall. I am allowed to break down in front of these people. They are my family, and crying does not make me weak! I put down the voice in my head, satisfied.


A took another minute before I went back to the microphone. I lightly chuckled as I spoke: “You guys are making me break down right in front of all of you guys right now. Thank you guys, you are the best!” I said; the crowd cheered. The amount of support from fans was unbelievable. Hearing them sing this song so loudly was breathtaking. “That has got to be the loudest I’ve ever heard this song sang before,” I smiled.


“Okay,” I said quickly, getting pumped up. “Do you guys know the next part of the song?” I asked, and the crowd replied positively. “Okay,” I said, wrapping my right hand around the microphone as I spoke. “I want you guys to go down in history as the loudest crowd we have ever had, alright?” I said excitedly, and the crowd cheered loudly. I pointed at them. “Take this song, and make it your own, right now!” I said as the crowd continued to scream. It really made me incredibly happy knowing that this song—which meant one thing to me—meant different things to other people. We were all going to get through our problems together as a family. This was my job; this was my purpose: helping others cope. Filtering through our uncommon feelings through a common song.


“Here we go,” I said.


“But last night, you said you ended up in…” I began, and then I stepped aside to let the crowd work their magic.


“Palm Springs dancing on tables.
Almost fought some bitch at the club (yeah!)
Got kicked out of you hotel and lost your shoes,” I walked around the stage, strumming the guitar, watching them sing.


Then, I went back to the microphone:


“Well, fuck, what am I supposed to be? Impressed?
You’re just another set of bones to lay to rest!
So I’ll say goodnight; I hope you had a really good time!
Good time…”


The crowd filled in the words while I sporadically stepped back from the microphone. I stared at them with pride, and then I continued.


“So keep in happiness
And torture me while I tell you,
‘Let’s go in style,'” I belted, dragging out the last word and clenching my eyes shut.


“A million hooks around a million ways to die!
Let’s go outside.
It’ll be all right…

But last night, you said you ended up in Palm Springs dancing on tables…”


“That’s what I’m talking about San Antonio!” I yelled enthusiastically into the microphone as the crowd cheered and the rest of the guys jumped back on stage, smiling significantly.


For those five minutes, I was extremely happy. Singing with passion with the fans was soothing and exhilarating. I wanted to be in this moment forever.


But, as I knew from the past, all good moments wouldn’t last forever.


I sighed, smiling at the cheering crowd.


My heart throbbed at the bittersweet moment.


“But I will soon forget the color of your eyes, and you’ll forget mine”. This line I chose not to sing. I would never forget the electrifying blue eyes of the girl whose face would be tattooed on my heart forever.

Notes

Hey guys. I still felt unresolved, so I decided to make a sequel to "Can We Lose Our Minds?" to show more in depth how the guys move on. It's going to be pretty short, I think, but who knows. I just had the sudden idea while I was listening to music and I just couldn't help my self! I'm so crazy i'm sorry haha

It's a little slow right now. I accidentally listened to "Falling Asleep On A Stranger" when I started writing this and got all emotional and shit. come back to my heart, come back to my heart.... omg the fucking emotion. I love his voice fucking hell.



PS: WATCH THIS YOU WILL NEVER BE THE SAME AGAIN: (Actual video of Vic singing I'm Low On Gas And You Need A Jacket acoustically) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YhdbXre5_50 i fucking cried. i just HAD to incorporate this it's just way too perfect. i've never seen them live **Cries hysterically** but i can't wait for that day because of THIS