To my drums. They’re in the auditorium from yesterday’s services, but beggars can’t be choosers. I turn on the single stage light over my throne and make my way down the carpeted aisle. It’s not late, but the church is deserted. Church folk tend to take Mondays as their Sabbath. I pull out my phone and scroll to some music with a heavy beat and turn it up loud in my earbuds. Then I turn it up that much louder. My hands grip my sticks with too much force. This song starts off with a soft piano intro and the slightest kick drum. Which I am feeling just fine. I’m feeling more disciplined than ever. Wound tightly. Almost afraid to let loose, because when I do, I don’t know what will come out. I sing along under my breath for the first time in half a decade. I never, ever sing.

Because I have this feeling, bubbling up inside of my chest, that when I open my mouth, the scream I’ve been holding in will let loose and never come back.

But this isn’t for anyone else. It’s for me.

Well. Maybe it is for someone. Maybe it’s for God. Maybe I need him to hear this. Maybe I’m finally ready to talk. Scream. Whatever. It’s time we have it out. Because while I always love God, I don’t like him much at the moment.

Another light comes on, and James is making his way, determined, to the stage. He’s holding his guitar. Not his acoustic. His electric. He doesn’t say anything, just plugs in. He gestures to the live mic in front of me with a nod. I recognize the opening chords immediately, and my stony composure breaks.

I guess we’re doing this.

James starts with the first verse, and it occurs to me that he’s been waiting for this as much as I have. I think about the last few weeks and everything that has happened, and, well, knowing he needs this, too, helps. It helps to know I’m not alone.

The drums are heavy in this song. Abusive. It takes all my core strength to contain the rhythm. It’s sharp and reckless at once. As James moves into the chorus, his voice melodic and furious, I realize my part in all of this. We’re building and building and he’s whining and growling and then I’m screaming. I’m screaming my fucking soul out.

Screaming and screaming, “Just let go!”

The words burn in my throat and rip at my vocal cords. They tear from inside of my chest, and my shoulders are vibrating with the effort. Tears pour down my face, unchecked, as the chorus comes again. And again.

I scream again and again.