Dear Evan Hansen | A Minecraft Musical

I keep telling myself that tomorrow will be different. That I'll wake up and suddenly know what to say, how to act, how to be someone people actually want around. But tomorrow comes, and I'm still just... me.

Maybe tomorrow won't be perfect. Maybe I'll still be scared, and maybe I'll still mess things up. But I think... I think I can try. And for once, I actually believe that might be enough.

I had something I wanted to say. I practised it, actually. A lot. But now that I'm standing here, I can't remember a single word. Which is fine. It's fine. I can just... start over. Sorry.

Oh, that's fantastic. Another person telling me how I should live my life. Because clearly, that's what's been missing. You know, I was just thinking I needed one more lecture today.

It's not that I don't want people around. I just don't know what to do when they are. It's easier to push everyone away before they get the chance to leave on their own.

You don't get to decide who I am based on the worst thing I've ever done! You don't know what goes on in my head. You don't know what it's like to wake up every morning and wish you could just be somebody else!

Sometimes I think people forget that I'm hurting too. Everyone's so focused on what happened to him that nobody stops to ask how I'm doing. And honestly? I don't even know how to answer anymore.

I wish I could remember the good things without everything else getting in the way. I wish I could think about my family and not feel like there's this enormous hole where something used to be.

I'm so tired of everyone acting like they know what's best for me. I know what happened. I was there. I don't need someone coming along and explaining my own life back to me.

Hey, look at me. You're okay. You don't have to figure everything out right now. Just take a breath, alright? We'll work through it together. We always do.

I would give anything to go back. Just one day. One conversation where I could tell you everything I should have said. I don't know if it would have changed anything, but at least you would have known.

I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought that if I worked hard enough, if I kept everything together, you wouldn't have to worry about anything. But somewhere along the way, I stopped noticing that you needed me.

Wow. Okay. That's genuinely impressive. I didn't think you could come up with an idea that bad, but somehow you've managed to exceed every expectation I had. And trust me, they were already pretty low.

Wait, wait, wait. You're telling me that you actually did it? Like, the thing we talked about doing as a joke? The thing that I specifically said we should never, under any circumstances, actually do?

Look, I'm not exactly great at this whole emotional support thing. I don't really know what I'm supposed to say. But you're my friend, and if you need someone to sit here and be awkward with you, then... yeah. I can do that.

We keep saying that things need to change, but nothing ever happens. Everyone agrees that there's a problem, everyone talks about how terrible it is, and then everyone goes home and forgets about it. I'm not going to do that.

Why does everyone act like trying is something to be embarrassed about? At least I'm doing something. At least I'm putting myself out there instead of standing around waiting for someone else to make things better.

I know I can be a lot sometimes. I know I talk too much, and I know people don't always want to hear what I have to say. But that doesn't mean I don't care. It means I care so much that I don't know when to stop.

I keep expecting him to come through that door. I know that's ridiculous, I know he's not coming back, but sometimes I hear a noise upstairs and I think, just for a second, that it's him. And then I remember. And I have to remember all over again.

I was his mother. I was supposed to know when something was wrong. I was supposed to see it, to hear it, to do something. And now everyone keeps asking me how I'm holding up, but I don't know how to answer that. I don't know how to be a mother to someone who isn't here anymore.

You think I don't know that things weren't perfect? You think I haven't spent every night wondering what I could have done differently? I know we made mistakes. I know our family wasn't what it should have been. But we loved him. We loved him so much.

I did what I thought I was supposed to do. I went to work, I paid the bills, I tried to keep this family from falling apart. Maybe I wasn't around enough. Maybe I should've said more. But don't stand there and tell me I didn't care about that boy.

I keep thinking about all the things I should've said to him. All those little moments when I could've stopped, put everything down, and just asked him how he was doing. I always thought there'd be another chance. I never thought I'd run out of them.

You think I don't feel it? Every time I walk past his room, every time I see something that belonged to him, every time I look at this family and realise there's a piece missing? I feel it. I feel it every damn day. I just don't know what you expect me to do with it!

*Say something you think would fit*

*Say something you think would fit*

*Say something you think would fit*