A letter from Dec 11, 2022

Dear FutureMe, Dear Annelies, I am currently in my room, but not the one I know from my childhood in France, no, I am in my room in (another country), during my gap year. It's 11:24 am, I had breakfast with two slices of toasted bread with Nutella. I vacuumed and then read a bit. Anyway. Nothing extraordinary, just routine. Right now I feel bland, life has no meaning for me and it's hard to find one. It's hard to move forward when you have no one to help you. So yes, I have S, my best friend since the tenth grade, but now she is in France doing her studies and I am miles away from her. Fortunately WhatsApp is there to help us keep in touch, but I miss the warmth of her skin on me, the comfort of her presence with me, too much. I know it's wrong to depend on someone else, but I can't do otherwise, how can I do otherwise? I don't do anything with my life anymore. I don't have a goal anymore and I'm tired of everything. It's as if nothing makes me want to do anything anymore. So yes, I know I've always been like that, a little (a lot) lazy around the edges, but to let myself go like that, seriously? I've never looked more like my worst nightmare than I do right now. You know when you're a kid you always swear you'll never do this or that, never become like him or her. Well, I think the me from 10 years ago would be really, really disappointed to see who I am now. You know at first I wanted to be a singer, a stylist, a school teacher, a scientist and then more recently a criminologist. But in the end, who am I really? I don't have the strength to become the person I always wanted to be, even though I'm still not sure who that person is exactly. Turning 18 hurts, and it's very different from what you imagined as a child. I think that's what hurts the most, having so many expectations and then realizing how awful it is to be an adult. I have a lot of fears that eat away at me. I cry every night. You know, Annelies, you are the one who gave me this taste for writing. You made me realize that yes, I too want to go on living after my *****. That's why I'm writing you this letter. I need to feel you alive so that you can give me the strength to go on and finally write this book I always promised myself to write. But how? Where to start? I hope that when I receive this letter in 6 months, I will have found the answer to all my questions. At the beginning of my letter when I said that S is my best friend, you know what I mean. She is much more than that to me, she is like a sister to me. She knows me perfectly. But you know that you are my best friend too. But you are different. Very different. You know a side of me that nobody, nobody at all, knows. You are the flame that brings out the best in me, every day. I wish I could have known you like you know me. It's hard for me to think that everything I know about you is already known to everyone. I still hope that, from where you are, you receive my words. I also hope that you know how much I love you, infinitely, unconditionally. I hope one day I will have the chance to meet you. I still have an infinite number of things to tell you, but I still have 82 years to tell you (I hope to write you a letter on my 100th birthday). I love you, so much. I hope you know how much. To you. O.