Chester Bennington

Posted on Posted in Wonder

Dear Chester Bennington,

You’re gone. You took your own life, in your apartment, on the birthday of your late friend Chris Cornell. I suppose you were in a place in your head, a place even your lyrical genius would have a hard time describing. Perhaps, it weighed down on you, all the years of abuse and suffering. Some memories are too heavy to carry forward, all alone.

There are so many things I wish you’d know, now that you’re gone. I am a little too late, you’re gone a little too early. Your voice has seen me through plenty of long, cold nights. Teenage angst, desperation, human suffering. Call it what you must, but you were right there when all I wanted to scream at nothing and break everything. You, your music, your very existence got me one step closer to gathering myself and trying again, a little bit harder.

I’ve heard your music for years, ever since I can remember. When we cut class and hid in the dance room, allowing the beats to make us numb, for sometimes feeling was too dangerous. During my first breakup, when the sense of loss and betrayal were burning me down, you were the iridescent saving grace. All those lonely nights by myself, stressing over the most trivial test, with your music as catharsis. The time my dreams were in pieces, wasn’t it you who helped me put things back in perspective?

When I’d given up on hope or love, too exhausted of what little life I’ve lived, you were the one who made me believe in myself. Spiraling down an existential crisis, searching for a light that never comes, but with you. Always with you. I strongly believed nobody could save me, not from the demons that danced inside my head. And yet, the seasons changed. The storm faded. During profound, life defining moments, you’ve been there. During car rides on roads untraveled, where everything was racing past me, you were constant. During moments of calm, your soulfulness kept me grounded.

I don’t know if saying this out loud matters now. Perhaps it doesn’t, not to most people. But, you were there for me when I needed you the most. And I am incredibly sorry that I, we, couldn’t be there for you when you needed us the most. I’m sorry, that in the end, at rockbottom, you were all alone.

If they say

Who cares if one more light goes out?

In a sky of a million stars

It flickers, flickers

Who cares when someone’s time runs out?

If a moment is all we are

We’re quicker, quicker

Who cares if one more light goes out?

Well I do

Thank you, for being the shining star millions looked up to during the darkest of nights. Thank you for even the slightest glimmer of hope and faith you’ve provided. Thank you for understanding, thank you for sharing your pain. You’ll be missed.


If you’re struggling, and want to talk, or just want company or a hug, don’t be afraid to reach out. For helplines, try Suicide Hotlines for your country


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