Sincerely, Me • Dear Evan Hansen

five • 5

Oh, how the tables had turned. The person who was best at helping Evan's anxiety was now the center of it. Connor had been avoiding Evan all day, though Evan couldn't tell if it was normal, as they hadn't had experience hanging out during school. He confided in Jared, who wasn't really much help.

"Connor Murphy?" he inquired, "Okay, Evan, maybe it's for the best that he won't talk to you? I mean, how did you even get him to talk to you in the first place?"

"It was kind of an accident," Evan muttered, holding his head up with one hand as he impaled his dry lettuce with a plastic fork, "I just can't tell if he's mad at me or n-not."

"Connor Murphy is bad news, Evan. You probably shouldn't be hanging around him anyway. He's not the person you'd want to piss off, and telling him you're into his little sister is a pretty easy way to do just that."

"I didn't know! They don't talk at s-school, how was I supposed to?"

"Did the last names not hint you off? And the fact that they ride to and from school together every day?"

"It's n-not like I stalk them, Jared. I didn't n-notice the cars, or even think of the last names."

"As your best friend, I need to be straight with you. Connor very well may never talk to you again. That's probably for the best. You don't need someone as... unpredictable as Connor in your life; not with your anxiety."

"But he's been helping!"

"In the long run, though, he won't be. You haven't seen him when he's high. People aren't the same when they're on drugs, Evan, and he's on drugs ninety percent of the time. I'm trying to look out for you."

The lunch bell rang as Jared and Evan split ways to go to different classes. Evan managed to find Connor in the hall traffic, making eye contact for a split second before Connor instantly dropped his gaze to the floor, causing Evan to sigh in defeat. When he got home, he sent Connor several messages, all of which he viewed but did not reply to.

To: Connor Murphy
From: Evan Hansen

Dear Connor,
This is probably so extra and so annoying, I'm sorry. You haven't told me to leave you alone, so I'm clinging to the hope that that means you don't want me to. You probably do.

I asked my friend about it. He said you're probably mad at me and it's probably for the best, and that it'd probably help my anxiety if we didn't hang out. I disagree. He said drugs would make you a different person than the person I know.

I don't care about drugs. I mean, I do, they're bad, but I want us to be friends. I don't want my anxiety to dictate my friendships, even though it does on a daily basis. But my anxiety usually isn't a problem with you. We have normal conversations. You make me feel normal. We've only been friends for a short time, but I feel normal.

You don't baby me. You don't shield me. But at the same time, you don't push me out of my comfort zone. You have me at just the right balance of safety and independence that nobody has ever had me at.

This is not why I'm writing this email. This email is an apology. For what, I'm not sure. Not that I don't understand why you're mad, I do. But I don't know if I'm apologizing for my stupidity, my feelings, or my inconsideration. I was stupid for not noticing that you were related. I shouldn't have feelings for Zoe. I don't even know Zoe. I don't understand it.

I won't like Zoe anymore. I don't know what I like or liked about Zoe, but I do know that I'll drop all of it if it means you'll talk to me again.

All I need, Connor, is closure. Tell me to leave you alone. Tell me to never talk to you again. Tell me to stay away from you. Push me in the hallway and call me a freak.

Tell me not to stop talking to you. Tell me it's okay. Tell me that you forgive me. Tell me everything is okay and we're still friends.

Tell me you need time. Tell me to leave you alone for awhile and you'll let me know when you're ready to move past this. I'll be ready when you are. I'll do whatever I need to fix this.

Sincerely,
Me

Connor felt his insides twist with every word. What was he even mad at Evan about? He stared at his screen, fingers hovered over the keyboard as an angel and a devil argued on his shoulders.

On one side, he could repair his relationship with Evan. He could apologize for everything, tell Evan not to worry. But on the other side, Connor was fine without friends. It was a way for him to validate what he did- drugs, self-harm, isolate himself. He hadn't done anything since that day in the computer lab, but he was ready to go back to it.

To: treefanatic123@support.com
From: anonymous420@support.com

dear evan hansen,
i know you're sorry. i know you don't know why you're sorry. i know everything you're telling me. apologies don't fix everything. you can't apologize and make everything all sunshine and fucking rainbows.

maybe i need time. maybe i'm the one in the wrong. all i know is that right now, we shouldn't talk. i do not need you in my life, because i do not need anyone in my life. i was fine before you came along. i lived in a pre-evan world, i can live in a post-evan world. you are not my lifeline. i don't have a lifeline.

maybe we'll work things out. maybe we won't. maybe i care. maybe i don't. maybe i will care. maybe i won't. the world is full of surprises.

sincerely,
me