Dear Evan Hansen

by Val Emmich

In a single day filled with so many moments, the world ends and it carries on.

I spoke to him just a few days ago. Now I’ll never speak to him again. Or walk past him.

I also know that when you’re not in the best headspace, the trivial can turn into the insurmountable and all of a sudden you’re heading down a dark path and you can’t find your way back.

But this one obviously hits close to home. Even closer than she knows.

I wonder if at any point he regretted it. If there was a moment between deciding and dying when he changed his mind.

The really messed-up part is that some of these questions will never have answers. Knowing that must be the worst.

You can laugh or you can cry.

It’s like that quote: “full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

I don’t see Connor. Obviously, I don’t see Connor. He’s not alive. You can’t see people who aren’t alive.

Maybe he could be alive right now if I hadn’t printed that stupid letter.

Truthfully, I didn’t care one bit about safety in that moment. That’s not where my head was.