When I was 18 years old, I had a dream that you were dying. I was in New Jersey and you were in California. And, I was trying everything that I could to get to you. But, I couldn’t. I was so close, but I was so far from you. In my mind, listening to you sing was like hearing a big brother, guiding me, leading me somewhere I belong. See, even there was a song…But, I didn’t reach you in time. I woke up. And, I was so shaken by this that I cried silently, praying that my mother wouldn’t see me.
I knew then that something was wrong. But, I couldn’t place my finger on it. Years later, I am 33 and dealing with my own thoughts of not so much suicide, but not being. Doctor’s still say that it is “suicide” with a hard “S”. And, here you are, gone from this world to that very word. I had to hear it from a friend. I didn’t even know. It was a punch to the gut. I thought to myself “Is my mourning period ever going to end?”
I cannot believe that you are gone. But, I can, all the same.
It kills me when I hear that line, “Sometimes solutions aren’t so simple. Sometimes goodby is the only way.” I am not going to be angry. I won’t call you a coward. Because, the world needs to know that we all have our demons. Sometimes, more than we’d like to admit, the demons win.
I’m going to use this just like I used your music when I was 16, 18, 21, 25, 28, 33, and in between. I’m going to see what’s really going on. I want to see those demons. I want to face them head on. I want them to know, these are battles. The war is not over.
So to you, Chester Charles Bennington, I say,
Thank you. R.I.P.