So I finally got around to reading Dylan's journal on here:
[You must be registered and logged in to see this link.]Near the end is a letter he wrote to someone. It's kind of a mix between a suicide and love letter which is why I find it interesting:
"You don’t consciously know who I am (please don’t skip to the back: read the note as it was
written), & doubtedly unconsciously too. I, who write this, love you beyond infinince. I think
about you all the time, how this world would be a better place if you loved me as I do you.
I know what you’re thinking: “(some psycho wrote me this harassing letter)” I hoped we
could have been together ... you seem a bit like me. Pensive, quiet, an observer, not wanting
what is offered here (school, life, etc.) you almost seem lonely, like me. You probably have a
boyfriend though, & might not have given this note another thought. I have thought you my
true love for a long time now, but . . . well . . . there was hesitation. You see I can’t tell if you
think of anyone as I do you, & if you did who that would be. Fate put me in need of you, yet
this earth blocked that with uncertainties. I will go away soon, but I just had to write this to
you, the one I truly loved. Please, for my sake, don’t tell anybody about this, as it was only
meant for you. Also, please don’t feel any guilt about my soon-to-be “absence” of this world
(it is solely my decision: no one else’s) oh ... the thoughts of us ... doing everything together,
not necessarily anything, just to be together would have been pure heaven. I guess it’s time
to tell you who I am. I was in a class with you 1st semester, & was blessed with being with
you in a report. I still remember your laugh. Innocent, beautiful, pure. This semester I still
see you — rarely. I am entranced
during 5th period, as we both have it off. To most people, I appear . . . well . . . almost scary,
but that’s who I appear to be as people are afraid of what they don’t understand. I denied
who I was for a long time. Until high school.... anyway, you have noticed me a few times, I
catch every one of these gazes with an open heart. I think you know who I am by now. Unfortunately
... even if you did like me even the slightest bit, you would hate me if you knew
who I was. I am a criminal. I have done things that almost nobody would even think about
condoning. The reason that I’m writing you now is that I have been caught for the crimes I
committed, & I want to go to a new existence. You know what I mean (suicide). I have nothing
to live for, & I wont be able to survive in this world after this legal conviction. However,
if it was true that you loved me as I do you ... I would find a way to survive. Anything to be
with you. I would enjoy life knowing that you loved me. 99/100 chances you probably think
I’m crazy, & want to stay as far away as possible. If that’s the case, then I’m very sorry for
involving an innocent person in my problems, & please don’t think twice. However, if you are
who I hoped for in my dreams & realities, then do me a favor: leave a piece of paper in my
locker saying anything that comes to you. Well, I guess this is it — goodbye, & I love(d) you."
Another reason this catches my eye is because this sound exactly like me when I muse to a friend about a certain someone, who is a major factor to my depression. It goes to show how alike we are.