When I was fourteen years old I met Punk Rock. We never had formally been introduced, though had run into each other from time to time. I owned some random tapes and cds that had fast beats and vocals that sounded like yelling. I knew that I liked what I heard, but I didn't realize it had a name.
In high school my older friends that had licenses (!!!!) would pick me up and take me down to a coffee shop that had a tiny back room. There I fell in love with loud vocals, fast riffs, and words about defying authority and doing what you want in life. I crushed on boys, I dyed my hair pink, I met bands that had seen both coasts before I had ever set foot in an ocean. Mostly, I found music that made me feel alive. I related, loved, hated. I felt.
Punk Rock introduced me to Hardcore on a blind date at a show one night in that tiny back room. Hardcore was different, much more passionate to me. I immediately wanted to be as close as I could to Hardcore. I had never related to songs in such a way. Hardcore and I became inseparable.
Sixteen years later I still have my relationships with both Hardcore and Punk Rock. They're always playing on my iTunes, or my choice on Youtube. I get caught at a stoplight screaming my brains out and using the steering wheel as a drum I still cannot keep rhythm to. I still advertise the bands I love on my chest, even in my tattoos. There are albums and songs that I need to survive feelings and situations to this day.