It was a long, very intimate letter in the same sprawling capitals he used to write his songs. He did say he wished he was dead, but didn’t actually say that it was his intention to kill himself. He talked of our life together, romance, and passion; his love for me, his love for Natalie and his hate for Annik. He couldn’t have hated Annik. I never heard him say he hated anyone. I think he wrote that to try to please me. He told me he couldn’t bring himself to be so cruel as to tell her he didn’t want to see her again, even to save his marriage. The pages were full of contradictions. He asked me not to get in touch for a while as it was hard for him to talk to me. By the time he had finished writing, he told me, it was dawn and he could hear the birds singing.
— Deborah Curtis on Ian Curtis’ suicide note. Taken from Touching from a Distance. (via joy-dvision