A letter from Feb 11, 2024

Dear Dylan “Lyn” Michael Benson, the first, the last, the only you there is, How’ve you been? You’d think a writer and musical theatre major would think of a more profound way to start this, huh? It’s just me though. And that question feels fairly valid still, because I want to know how you’ve been, genuinely. Because I care about you. I hope you’ve been doing well, and that the inevitable bad moments didn’t last too long. I have faith that you’ll find ways to last, to persist. You’re fairly capable, in that regard. Let’s see….if my calculations are correct…you’re approaching your 22nd birthday. That’s how old they were when you fell in love with them. Quite the age. You can drink and smoke legally now, I’m sure you’ve had some fun there, assuming you could afford it…I hope you don’t rely on the stuff too much. We know how you can be. How’s the theatre scene? Made some real money from it yet? Here’s to hoping you do soon, if not. And the writing? Hopefully you’ve kept writing. I’d be shocked if you weren’t: it’s practically impossible to stop sometimes for me. The book probably isn’t done, but that’s okay. Great things take time, and no reason to rush something you enjoy making so much, right? I hope you’ve kept in touch with everyone. I doubt you’d just drop off the face of the earth, but if you’ve graduated I know it must be harder to see them as often. I know it’s probably hard for you. But they still love you. And still want you to be happy. Especially them. I hope you’ve moved on a lot further, Lyn, I really hope so. I’m writing this from a very optimistic and clearheaded space…one of my good days…but it’s still very hard for me. And it’ll take time. And as long as you’re doing better now than you were then, that’s all I can ask and hope for. I know they still cross your mind. They have to. The love of one’s life would tend to do that, wouldn’t they? I hope you’ve written some more beautiful stuff about them. You deserve something beautiful. And so do they. If things are hard right now, just know that I kept pushing. I obviously made it long enough to read this, right? And you owe it to an older version of you…and to me to keep moving. You owe it to yourself, love. Know that you’re in my thoughts, and always will be. I love you, Dylan “Lyn” Michael Benson I and last of Rochester, at the age of 19 years, 2 months, 10 days, 14 hours, 42 minutes, and 25 seconds