April 3, 2017

Dear Ava,

I think that your book is AWFUL.

:)
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April 1, 2017

Dear Aunty,

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I miss you. I remember when you died, that night I was in fourth grade. You had had a heart attack upstairs in your room at our old house. I was scared in my bed. I regret not praying. I blamed myself for a long time for that. I thought it was my fault that you’re dead, but it’s not. It was your time to leave. You didn’t suffer I hope.

It’s been a long time since you’ve been gone. I’m in my last year of middle school. I never told you, but I was accepted into my dream school for the spanish immersion program for high school. I’m gonna be an interpreter and a missionary. I’m going to tell people about Jesus in every language and country I can. I hope you’re proud of me. I’ve come a long way. I’ve grown up a lot. There’s a boy now. We aren’t together, but you can tell there’s something between us. He has red hair and sky blue eyes. He’s sweet to me. And funny. He also fights ... Read more

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March 26, 2017

Leo,

I wanted to write this in a long time, but something kept me from it.Probably the thinking that writing this won’t matter, because you can’t see it.That’s probably true, no matter what other say to console me, it is how it is.Yet, I’m probably writing it to feel better my self, selfishly.I still blame my self, for what happened that day, because it is my fault, and will be.But blaming my self won’t bring you back, will it?You didn’t deserve it, that’s for sure.There were many others that are gone, that didn’t deserve anything similar either, but I’m not the one who decides.If I did, I believe it would be better.What do I know, and what am I saying when I couldn’t have kept you safe? In any kind of way, I hope you knew it, what I felt.And that you knew everything that you have ment for me, and others as well.You will never be forgotten, but you will always be missed.So long, old friend.

Wanderer
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March 21, 2017

dear river phoenix,

Hi my real name is laurel knighten to but, most people call me lolo. I to am having.the same or almost the same experiences in life in a freshmen and im not lying i really am. I go to frenship highschool and though i transferred here in the middle of.the year its kinda the same. If Catherine hardwickes made a movie from this book i would like ti be in it not because.i think im better but.just because.i really connected with the character in the.book.I live in lubbock Texas yea

yours laurel
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March 19, 2017

Dear Will,

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I miss you a lot. I miss the time we spent together, all those times we played together, when you were lying on my shoulder and looking what I am writing. No person have as big heart as you had. You were always optimistic, in good mood… I bet if you could have been able to do so, you would smile. I cannot mention your name or think of you and not to cry.. I regret the only time… When you felt bad and was slowly dying, I was afraid. I sit next to your cage and look at you as you are fighting.. But I was too afraid to touch you.. I was silly. But I am glad I was there at least with you. I feel bad I did not hear it at night, that I did not know you started to cough and breathe badly.. But I am glad I was there with you in the morning. You were always big fighter. I fought till the end. As a big hero. You always were my little here.. You seemed to be better.. But then, another morning, you was cold.. I hope you were glad I stayed with ... Read more

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March 18, 2017

Dear Kurt Cobain,

So. Unfortunately this letter will never get to you because you have been dead for quite a while now. I just recently got introduced to who you are, and I can’t believe that I have just met you, because it feels like I’ve known you for years and years. I wish I could’ve know. About you earlier so I could’ve mourned with the world the day that you were actually gone. In your last note you wrote that you have a beautiful daughter who lives the world so much and that you don’t ever want to not love the world and get hurt. I don’t understand how you couldn’t see that basically killed her whole world, because it took you. You also said that you’d rather burn out than fade away, there’s so much poetic justice to that, i personally think you could never burn out. For me you are the first flame in a huge fire. You will never burn out to me. Thank you for the songs and the tears. You truly have moved me beyond words. And I’m grateful for that, even if the world wasn’t.

Anonymous/
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March 14, 2017

Dear, Alfredo,

I haven’t say your name in years, i’ve never been able to swallow the words that make up your name, a name that i ‘ve been trying to forget since i was six years old. I don’t know why i chose you, from all my loved ones i could’ve choose. But it is not because i miss you, or i care about you, is about me, i thought this was good for my wild mind. I know that technically i should hate you, but i don’t. I know that my mom should hate you, but she doesn’t, i know my siblings should hate you, but they don’t, even when they told me that since the day you did that to me you stopped being a father to them, but i know deep inside they don’t feel that way completely, you still their father, and remembered as a great man for those who don’t know what you did. Even my psychologist thought i felt angry at you, but the truth is that i don’t feel anything, i can’t even hate you, i can only blame you for all the nights i stayed up thinking ... Read more

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March 11, 2017

Dear Twin Sister,

I have a secret to tell you. I can only tell you cuz I can’t tell anyone else who’s alive because they’ll just say so many repetitive and annoying things, that I just want someone to say nothing except okay. Here it goes.

Sometimes I wish that the cancer cells in my body would go wild and kill me. I have had this plan in my head where I would purposely be really unhealthy — skip my meals, eat a lot of junk food, stay up really late, let depression consume me for a day — and when I actually do get cancer, I would hide it all and just go. But I always feel bad so I won’t do it, just as I won’t do suicide because I know people will feel bad. I already know wha’t it’s like to lose someone and feel useless and sad enough to the point you’ll feel suicidal.

I’m not sick now, but do you know what I’m sick of? Love songs, happy songs, break up songs, break up quotes, corny posts of people who act like they’re really depressed and sad and post about it so they’ll look cool. It’s not ... Read more

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March 10, 2017

Dear Twin Sister,

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I was listening to Supermarket Flowers by Ed Sheehan just awhile ago, and it broke me. It reminded me so much of you. How little time you had and how quick you went. I remember writing you a get well soon poster made out of paper towels and my plan to sneak in the car to your hospital so that I could see you and give the poster myself. I badly wanted to see you that day, but they wouldn’t let me. If I’d known that those short four days were going to be your last, then I would’ve broken every boundary and law just so that I could see you. I could see your smile one last time instead of seeing you sick, vomiting all your food on the table, or seeing you leave the door with a handkerchief covered in your blood. Then often times I would think what you could’ve looked like if I did see you. I saw what cancer does to people now, and I imagined you looking like that. Weak, thin, and drowning in pain, then maybe I would’ve seen a more worse last image. But then maybe if I did go ... Read more

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March 5, 2017

Dear Kurt Cobain,

I don’t like your music, but I listen to it still. I listen to your voice, to your words in unsuccessful attempts of knowing what exactly killed you. It’s like you detonated from all the sadness inside you. Like all the love people gave you wasn’t enough to overwhelm the self loathe, self inadequacy. Frances wasn’t a reason good enough for you to stay. Courtney wasn’t.

You know what’s more scary, Kurt? That I feel it too. I understand it. I understand it enough that it’s breaking my heart. The understanding sits tight in my chest, making it hard to breathe.

I see your 8 year old self, hating the world already because your parents broke your tender heart, along with their marriage. I feel your 18 year old self, sleeping in the waiting room of the hospital you were born in. Helpless but strong. So strong. Asking yourself to not crack. (And you never did crack, Kurt. You exploded.) I feel you at 27, writing your suicide letter to Boddah, the only person you thought would understand your reasons. I see you scribbling your illegible handwriting one last time remembering how you had to modify the songs while singing because you couldn’t understand your ... Read more

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