What Started Is a Thing That Still Remains

17 years later, my friend Renee Yohe and I saw Thrice play in Orlando last night.

“On Saturday, the Taste of Chaos tour is in town and I’m not even sure we can get in, but doors do open and minutes after parking, we are on stage for Thrice, one of her favorite bands. She stands ten feet from the drummer, smiling constantly. It is a bright moment there in the music, as light and rain collide above the stage. It feels like healing. It is certainly hope.”
—from the original To Write Love on Her Arms story, written in 2006

17 years ago I met an incredible human being who was in a tough spot. Renee loved music. She loved a band called Thrice. They happened to be on tour and we went to see them in Orlando. We didn’t know the band and we didn’t meet them that night, but through a mutual friend we ended up getting to watch from the stage. I wrote about this in a story called “To Write Love on Her Arms.” That story took on a life of its own. Thrice lead singer Dustin Kensrue read it and reached out to me on MySpace.

Fast forward 17 years. Dustin is a close friend, one of my favorite people. Thrice is back in Orlando, celebrating 20 years of their album The Artist in the Ambulance. Renee and I watch the show from the balcony. I smile as she sings every single word. Afterwards we spend time with Dustin. The guys in the band sign a picture for Renee’s son. (Renee tells us he loves the idea of autographs and this will be his first time having any.)

Before the non-profit organization, before the t-shirt sales, before two actors played us in a movie, before staff meetings and board meetings and accountants and attorneys, before NBC Nightly News and Rolling Stone, before a million-dollar win on national television and a mental health summit at the White House, there was a friendship. Two people who loved music. Two people who loved words and depth and creativity. Two people who could see each other and laugh together. Last night I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude, that somehow against all odds—all of the layers and pressure and pain—this friendship has survived.

After the show someone asked us how we knew each other. They asked if we were colleagues. Renee and I started laughing. It’s a long story.

We’re both on the outside of “TWLOHA” now. We’re outside the official entity. I don’t own the words To Write Love on Her Arms. And don’t get me wrong—I still believe in that entity. I believe in the work they do, the people they help, the lives that continue to be saved. But recent days have been a good reminder that a part of TWLOHA will always be ours. Because we were there when it started. And what started is a thing that still remains.

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Go see Thrice on tour. The band is in Atlanta tonight, headed north from there.

Fun fact, which I didn’t realize until a friend posted about it a few hours ago: My book If You Feel Too Much came out eight years ago today. I wish that there had been a second book by now, but also I feel secure in where I am, in the story I’m living and the writing that’s been happening here lately. A second book will come. For now a huge thanks to everyone who has supported the first one. If You Feel Too Much is available wherever books are sold.

For upcoming small-group conversations, coaching, and speaking events, please visit JamieTworkowski.com.