A letter from May 19th, 2020

Dear FutureMe, I'm really annoyed at myself because I'm moody and hormonal and wanted to make this positive. I'm ten (?) weeks into this quarantine and **** I'm going insane. I'm seven (?) weeks on that injection and I'm having more hot flushes than a pedo in a Barney suit. Maybe I'll be a well respected journalist and be horrified that I just wrote that, or maybe I'll be nowhere near that goal. If you aren't near that goal and you still want to be, use this email as a kick in the teeth cause I know you're a lazy ***** sometimes. I didn't do all that work making an absolute ******** out of myself with Terry Smeaton for nothing. But, if you've found something or someone that you actually love, something different to journalism, I'm proud of you. If you're still being kind to people and believing in something, I'm proud of you. You tend to think far too much; its not a bad thing Please do one thing for me when reading this. Don't cringe. Easier said than done cause we're the same person and I know how deep the awkwardness and self-deprecation runs. I'm cringing now just acknowledging this fact. For the duration of this letter, lets pretend that everything I say is wise and profound. Lets not scrutinize my grammar or anything. Go easy on me, easy on yourself. I'm not sure if I'll set this to three years or five. I reckon I'll appreciate it more in five, when I've forgotten about it. Realistically, I know sad things will have happened by now, and that life will potentially be very different. I don't even want to say it, but you know who I mean, and I can't bear the thought. I actually can't. Or maybe this email will light up your phone as you're sitting in the sitting room gulping red wine with her and giggling, where "all is well." I hope for the latter. Don't ever forget that "This too shall pass", and that "a confident person needs no crutch." If you're still on the **** I'm disapointed in you. Winnie is asleep on the floor in my room. It's just been a year since we lost Toby. It's still hard, but I know it wont hurt you as much anymore. Winnie is a wild little baby with weak lungs so I hope to God you'll do everything in your power to keep her safe. Are you in love? Or are you still having meaningless Tinder dates? Please God say that by the age of 25 you're currently living with someone. I know you more than likely are, but I genuinely cant picture them. Maybe you'll show them this email and laugh. Or cry. I hope you're not gonna cry, cause I've made you cry enough. I know you because I am you, and I know you love wholeheartedly. Don't ever think you're not good enough, don't ever be afraid to commit to anything. Don't ever let heartbreak poison how you love. I'm writing this at 3am thinking I'm the next Seamus Heaney. I hope you've traveled and gotten more stupid tattoos. I know my tattoos are stupid but I'm too stubborn to admit that to anyone else. You might even have these covered up, I don't know. I like them now anyways. I'm not sure if you will have them covered up, I'm sure you're still as stubborn. Anyway; don't ever forget Berlin or Rome. Don't spend all your money on drink when you travel. Go on the piss of course, but actually see the world. Do you still go to the pier? I know it has rats and occasionally smells like piss, I know it holds lots of memories, but go back when you can. Go sit in St. Stephens Green and breathe. Let yourself see colour and feel. Accept things and love without reason to. It won't hurt you unless you let it, and for the love of God always reject bitterness. I'm going through a hippie phase if you haven't noticed. I wanna get some plants for my room and burn some sage but sure this room needs to be gutted. I still don't have wardrobe doors or even a handle on the bedroom door. I helped pay for the new kitchen and I'm putting this fact in solely to feel good about it right now. I'm assuming you're still in Dublin? Working for some small paper or radio station, working your way up until you can afford a big townhouse, where you'll write your bestsellers and inevitably retire back to Laois. Or maybe a house in Kerry or Galway! The absoloute notions I have that I secretly hope come true. Don't ever be afraid to look back at times that hurt, they didn't hurt then and you're only letting your grief cloud the memories. Ring the lads and arrange to see them all if you're not home much anymore. Love them and protect them as much as you do now. I'm scared for the future, as much as I hate admitting it. I'm scared you're something different to what I've idealized. This letter is more for my benefit than yours, I'm now seeing. What if I use this letter as a promise to myself that I genuinely can't break? I have no willpower, and I don't want this letter to be an ironic testament to that. What if I actually start to write and diet, my two main issues right now. (sidenote- I'm constantly using slang and deleting it/changing it cause I know that atm or idk will be seen as uwu or XD in 2025.) Alright this letter might be written by a delirious me at 3am that is tired, but I'm gonna do it, and I'm actually gonna do it so I don't have to look back in anger/disgust at myself for my lack of willpower. This is the kind of letter a therapist would read and go, oh **** lads. Right so what I'm gonna do is I'm gonna send you this and then follow up with a far more sensical and poetic letter. Except I might leave out the poetic part so that you can continue to look back and believe I'm a pure poet. I wanna stick in an lmao so badly but I won't for your sake. AIGHT i love you dickhead Let this be a testament to that. you're gonna look at this letter smiling, in a size 8 gucci suit sitting on a throne of money. sipping champagne. Whatever you do in life, always make sure you do it wholeheartedly, without any expectations of a returned favour. And take care of mam and dad. Hannah, aged 19