Dear Past Self,
There are so many things that I wish to say to you. So many things that I wish you had heard in your time. I could repeat all the same one-liners of stereotypical "advice" to you: don't worry so much, you are beautiful, you're not alone. But that cliche optimism doesn't really get anyone anywhere, does it?
I think the best thing I can say to you now, past self, is thank you. You did a good job. You did more than a good job. The things you dealt with, the things that happened to you; you survived it all. But you did more than just survive, you flourished, you fought, you forged a life. Most days I wish that my present self could follow your ever-persevering example. Most days I wish I could go back and harvest that light you held steady in your chest and use it to illuminate my world now.
You were strong, you were capable, and most surprisingly of all, you were me. So thank you. But at some point along the way, caught between your fruitful childhood and new-found adulthood, you stumbled and fell. At one specific, chance moment, you lost yourself. Leaving me here.
To Whomever This May Concern:
I address you as such because I don't really know who I am talking to, present self. Anybody even home?
Right now, it feels like I'm having an off day. A day where you don't want to go outside and see anyone because it feels like their judging eyes could burn holes through your head. This is the type of day where you can't speak because your mouth is dried up and all out of words. This day is when you can't look in the mirror without wondering what exactly you're looking at because you don't recognize even the smallest freckle on that reflections face.
But this day, your off day, it happens over and over again, every day. A constant cycle of uselessness and listlessness. Each second the question "what am I doing with my life" sears in the back of your mind and boils your blood. It cripples you internally, and every move your make is like swimming with clothes on.
So, present self, you're struggling. You're not dealing with it like you used to either. There is the taste of defeat on your tongue and it is bitter as you wait to swallow. You think that you're alone and no one else is dealing with these feelings like you and you can't even fathom talking about it with someone.
But please, please do not think for a second that your experience is unique. And even more important, do not think that your experience is over. This is not the end and whether you make a move or not, things with eventually push forward. Change is inevitable and soon you won't be able to recognize this time of your life as "the present." Keep that in the back of your pocket as you walk along each day, stringing one on the back of the other.
Dearest Future Self,
A lighthouse in the distance as the freezing rain stings my skin in the darkest hours of night. My piled high plate of delicious food sitting at home after starving for days. A pair of arms to hold me and a big strong chest to sink myself into after a long day of repeated defeats. A massive, warm bed when you've been struggling to keep your eyes held open all day.
You give me hope. You give something more. Something to look forward. Something to keep going on for. I can't wait to meet you. I can't wait to see what you see and know what you know. You are what motivates my present self to do better, to be better. So thank you. You are not even here yet but you have no idea the difference you make.
There is one thing I hope you don't change though, future self. And that is the people you choose to surround yourself with. That is the one thing present self is doing right, and you need to continue it. Your dearest and loving siblings, your perfect mother, your expert father, hold them close. Closer than you do now. Cherish your friends, your loves, your family. They are worthy of your steadfast devotion now and I do not doubt for even the slightest moment they will continue to be worthy.
But keep building. Build new relationships. Build new dreams. Build new desires.
I can't wait to see what you make.
