Dear Dustin,

I wanted to start off this letter with those infamous words, 'if you're reading this, then that means I am dead', but that's rather stupid, considering you already know I am dead, and quite honestly, I don't think you need me to repeat that. After all, you're a smart kid, who is going places, unlike me, who obviously failed the saving throw this time. (Just a little humor there to lighten the mood)

Anyway, since I am not coming back, I wanted to leave you a few words that will hopefully give you a little bit of comfort in my absence until you find a replacement dungeon master. Heh. Just kidding again, you know you can't replace me.

Okay, let's just get on with it…brace yourself, it's about to get emotional in here.

On the day that I die, a lot will happen, a lot will change. The world will be different. Everything that I had planned after graduation will never be fulfilled, all the material things I guarded and treasured like my guitar, and D and D manuals will be left in the hands of others to care for or discard.

All the disagreements and arguments I've had with Uncle Wayne, over stupid petty shit will not bring me any satisfaction or comfort now.

The words of everyone who hated me, called me an outcast, a freak and ridiculed me for who I was, they can't hurt my heart anymore. They are unable to touch me now.

All the raised voices of the people in the trailer court shouting at me to turn down my music will stop; all will be quiet.

Every superficial worry I had about not fitting in, or care about wearing the hand me down clothes will fade away. It is all meaningless in the end.

The reputation I had, both good and bad, the one I struggled so greatly to maintain will be of little concern for me anymore. I am at peace with myself.

All the small anxieties that stole sleep from me in that little cramped bed in the back of the trailer each night will be rendered powerless. The deep mysteries about life and death that once consumed my mind and found their way into my campaigns will finally be solved it a way that they could never be while I was alive. Death is the grandest adventure ever.

These things will certainly all be true on the day that I die, however, what follows is what you will feel the most. They are what will bring you the most pain, the most sorrow…

On the day that I die, the few people who truly know and love me will grieve deeply.

They will feel a void.

They will feel cheated.

They will not feel ready.

They will feel as though a part of them has died as well.

And on that day, more than anything in the world, they will want more time with me.

I know this from those I loved and lost. And knowing this, while I am still alive to write this, I will try to remember that my time here is finite and fleeting and so very precious—and I'll do my best not to waste a second of it.

I'll try not to squander a priceless moment worrying about all the other things that will happen on the day I die, because many of those things are either not my concern or beyond my control.

Dustin, life has a way of messing with you, keeping you from being who you were truly meant to be. The little trivial things are always vying for your attention, competing for your affections. They rob you of the joy of this unrepeatable, ever-evaporating Now with those who love you and want only to share it with you.

Don't miss the chance to dance with them while you can.

It's easy to waste so much daylight in the days before you die. Don't let your life be stolen every day by all that you've been led to believe matters, because on the day you die, the fact is that much of it simply won't. Be yourself.

Yes, you and I will die one day.

But before that day comes: let us live.

I think this letter is finished now, there's nothing more I can say to you, except for 'I love you, Henderson.'

I am sorry that I died, but I am not sorry this happened. Because it did, I got to spend the last few hours of my life with you, my best friend in this world and any other.

I know that you're probably a blubbering mess right now, with snot running down your face and tears streaming out of your eyes, so I want you to fold up this paper, tuck it away in your pocket and take a deep breath. Life will go on without me. All that I ask is that when you hear music playing somewhere off in the distance, you take a moment and think about me, and remember all the good times that we had, because the dead are never dead to us, until we stop remembering them.

Your Eternal Dungeon Master
Eddie