A letter from August 1st, 2020

Dear FutureMe, Your head is wild right now. He wanted to just vanished. He want his life end. He questions, what's the point of living. He's confushed. What's thr point of loving anyway. I feel guilt... Of the past. Of instances that I could be better. I could be nicer. I could be carefree. I could be more helpful. But i wasn't like that in the past. I was a selfish brat and useless daydreamer. Now this is who I am. I don't know if you could be better. But someday, before you read this letter. I hope to find an answer. I hope i could find a meaning.