A/N: I don't own Dear Evan Hansen which is a great play and musical by the way :)

TW: Suicidal thoughts.

I know that I'm not a role model that I'm not the kind of person you can trust. I am not even a nice guy. As you can think now I'm a total asshole. I am sorry if it's look stupid but I had to write this bullshit for the Dr Sherman. He really thinks that writing those letters to myself will help me. I don't believe him. If the yoga, the meditation, the Pilates, the therapy, the pills, and the billions other things that I tested so far didn't work at all, I'm quite sure that this thing won't help either. I am a lost cause. But whatever. So,

Dear Connor Murphy,

Today's gonna be a good day and here is why:

Because today, you will escape from the real world. No matter what. Why, have you said ?

Have you ever felt like you never belong to any places. Feeling you thoughts collide and crash into a chaotic pattern of self-hatred, anger and disgust ?

Because, you know, it's always been my case.

I am trapped in a cage made of confusion and insecurity which I am the only one to have built.

It's silly how you can lock yourself in an unalterable prison.

And well, I am sleepwalking trough my life. Now that I think about it. I'm kind of zombie in fact. Indeed, a part of me already died. The joyful, the smiling, the expressing-his-feelings Connor, full of compassion, the good kid, the friend. The one who is unable to socialize and create bonds. Now all that remains is a shadow, a blurry shape of a lonely teenager, a bomb that's gonna, one day, explode if it is not already done.

I just feel trapped in this world. Full of hatred, injustice, this fucking mean world which isn't nice to anyone except for some lucky ones. Unfortunately, as you can guess, I am not part of it. Why ? I don't know. No one knows.

I don't even remember when I started to feel like this. To act so strangely. I can't even understand me. When sometimes, I would just burst and crack, wanting and destroying everything and everyone that surround me. And sometimes, I would just burst into tears and wanting to disappear. Hiding behind the veil of the burning drops of my sadness. Inhaling a smoke that couldn't prevent me from sinking and even help me to drown. Drawing a picture on my arm with a blade. Contemplating the scarlet drops of my blood, running down my pale skin. Admiring the contrast between the white and the red. Loving the pain which makes me less numb.

Finally, feeling something worth it. A mix between pain and pleasure.

So, dear Connor Murphy,

Do you know how it feels to feel like you fail at everything? That you destroyed everything you touch, wasting everything you want. Don't know how to express what you feel deep inside of you. This sudden and burning anger, hiding in the darkest place of your Heart. It is shameful. It is bad. You know it. But it seems like it is unavoidable. You're stupid. Dumb. Idiot. Fool. You're an asshole. You are everything you don't want to be. But what does it feel to be the person you hate the most in your entire life ? You're sad. You fucking idiot.