He loved my music so much, that his myspace url was one of my song titles. Under "People I'd like to meet", it listed me first.
His former girlfriend had emailed me a few times asking me to give them as much advance notice of all upcoming gigs as I could get, the idea being that they wanted to drive all the way down from Maine to come to a show.
The cruel irony here is that we had been contemplating making an east coast roadtrip during my vacation which would've included Maine. I wanted to put on some kind of informal solo jam because I happen to have a good number of fans in the area that he lived. I probably should have emailed him about this possibility a couple weeks ago when we were first talking about it. While I'm sure it wouldn't have changed his end result... and I'm not going to accept any guilt about him committing suicide... I feel like I dropped the ball. He could've at least seen his favorite musician play and hung out with me before he died. I should've emailed him. There was no reason for me not to have other than A. laziness and B. not wanting to get his hopes up in case the trip fell through.
I have very very few fans like him, and I don't know that I've ever done anything to deserve as much loyalty and admiration they give me.
I never knew you, Dustin. I never understood you. I wish I could have done something, anything other than my art to ease your pain. And I wish my art could have been enough to get you through. You'll always be my own personal American Psycho and you're always gonna have a special place in my heart. I hope wherever you are is better than where you were.
I knew your pain. I know depression and I know suicidal tendencies. One of us survived, and one of us fell. But wether you know it or not, you and I will always be blood brothers in misery.
I love you, brother.
Hope you find the peace in death you didn't have in life.