"It'll be just like you were never gone."

Seeing The Matches again after 5 years was one of the greatest weeks of my life! They first played a "secret" show, which they were wont to do back in the day. The venue they picked was in the building across the parking lot from iMusicast, where all of this started. (iMusicast folded.) I immediately started running into friends, including some I hadn't seen in 7 or more years. And I mean that literally: seeing people and running into their arms. Everyone felt weird but really happy.

I cannot describe the level of euphoria I (and I think everyone) felt as soon as The Matches started playing. Besides that the fans were reunited, and besides that it's our favorite music, and besides that it'd been a long time, The Matches' joy was infectious. They were obviously just as happy to be back as we were, which made us even happier. This is what people mean when they talk about "the energy" of a band.

I didn't know if I'd be able to mosh in a long skirt, I didn't know if I'd be able to mosh now that I'm in my late 20's, I didn't know if I'd have that feeling of absolutely losing your shit to some music. I could! I did! We all did! We sang, we danced, we hugged, we smiled until our faces hurt.

For that whole week, the L3ers were tagging each other in pictures, videos, and emotional facebook posts. So even when were weren't physically at the venues, we got washed in a bath of constant love online. Did that sound sexual? Sorry. Seeing them two more times was amazing; I didn't feel tired of my friends, of the music, or of moshing. The Matches mosh pit is my happy place.

The Matches mean a lot to their fans, and many of them have personal stories about how their music got them through hard times. Indeed, The Matches' music got me to face one of my greatest fears. While everyone was looking forward to the reunion with eager anticipation, I was growing increasingly anxious. Standing stage right at the first show was my own, personal rapist.

And I. Did. Not. Care.

Nothing could stop me from being happy in those moments. I saw my own rapist and laughed. I saw him again when I left the venue on Thursday: he was sitting alone on his motorcycle outside the club, looking at his phone. I was with my sister, soaking in a sweat cocktail. On Saturday, my friends called me over to join their picture, and he was right there talking to someone (though not invited to the picture.) It gives me comfort knowing that my friends and others know what he is. I'm glad I haven't been carrying this around inside me for the past six years. These L3ers who moshed with me and posted photos with sappy captions with me-- these are the people who believed me and supported me the most. Music carrying one through dark times: live in action!

I don't think it's possible to understand The Matches fans' ardor unless you were there. For those who already bleed audio, here's a memento:
Video courtesy of BxB. (See if you can spot You-Know-Who!)