A letter from November 19th, 2020

Dear FutureMe, Hey. I know. You've always despised the future, and what possibilities could unfold within your lifetime. You wish that everything could just simply stay as they are, even if the future might hold better things. Even now, I sit here with a queasy feeling in my stomach, you know? I feel uneasy somehow. I wonder where you are now. And, I suppose I'll introduce myself. I'm 15. I am in the second house you've lived in. I'm in year 9 of high school, I love drawing. I'm sitting here writing this letter after dinner, after thinking hard and long about it all day since your good friend bought it up during the third period of school. (I had chicken curry by the way. It was a bit undercooked.) To me, you're an all-knowing being with information about so much that I wanna know. Yet, you're just me. As much me as 15 year old me was to 10 year old me. And I know, only too well, that you're not all knowing, nor totally happy and successful. I know you have so many struggles, and I'm just sorry that I can't be there to hear yours. Still, you're so out of reach it's unimaginable that you'll even be receiving this. I hope you are, and you'd forgotten all about it and now that you're receiving it you're freaking out with excitement.  Anyway. 5 years into the future, huh? Obviously you won't be 15, or in year nine. But i wonder if you'll still be living here, and if you'll still have an inextinguishable love for drawing. And, just for a moment, stop worrying about the future and keep your mind still for me. Your past, and your present. You. You'll be 20, now. It seems impossible for me, a further distance from earth to the edge of the universe. Next year, I'll be year 10. Just a single more year scares me so, so much. I can't imagine it, I already feel myself slowing slipping from my grip on my school work. I know, I'm not doing the worst. But it feels like I'm starting to care less and less, and I don't know how I'll ever endure year 11, and year 12, and the HSC, and passing, and starting university...are you doing uni? Did you take a gap year, or are you in your second year? Or maybe you didn't pass. Maybe you dropped out. About your whole school life so far. How was it? How was the HSC? How's uni compared to high school? How's year 10 compared to year 9? What happened at the year 10 PDHPE dance assessment? Do you major something cool? Are there any cool teachers, classes, new friends, even? Think about all of it, I guess. And I hope you're not breaking down already, I have so, so, much more to say. How will you read it if your eyes are filled with tears? Okay. How's your family doing? Do you feel as distant from them as I do now? Your brother, I doubt I'll ever have a closer relationship, if I'll be honest. We're mere strangers, loosely tied together by blood, and I chase after his success as if chasing the moon. He's successful, the supposed very definition of it. My parents wish hard for another child ending up like him. And I guess I wonder why they think that. He doesn't really speak to any of us at all, is that really what they think successful parenting is? I don't know what he's doing. How he's doing. And your sister, she's like the sun. I think she's super cool. But get too close and it'll end up burning me, for her brilliance is as great as her defiance. How is she doing, though? Do you keep in touch? Is she doing better than she is now, in terms of 'success' in the modern human perspective? I hope you've become closer. I guess I never understood how children could be close to their parents. To be telling them so much about your life, to have them know so much. Once when you were a child you said you loved your dog more than your family, and everyone was shocked and found it laughable. I guess that wasn't a lie. I don't know if I'm messed up in the head. But I don't feel close to my family in general. All of them know next to nothing about me and I'm less than inclined to talk to them. They say that a child distant from the parents is largely none's fault other than the parents themselves. And all I can do is agree. Your mother, a devout Christian. The reason why you were one ever since birth. She grasps at the straws as they escape her, and I'm her last remaining hope. Even I am slowing slipping away. I can't understand her, yet I can understand. As a child, everything was so clear to me, but as I grow and mature it all becomes mixed up and confusing. Father began to make more sense to the supposedly naive and stupid 'worldly' human that I am. Why DID mother spend so much time praising Jesus and doing Christian things rather than tend to her family? We're falling apart, and all she does is pray to God. Who's really in the right? Would Jesus seriously approve my mother for worshipping Him as our family slowly crumbles? I remember a while ago where mother stood there and just stared at me with these really sad eyes. She was apologising, but that melancholic face she made is forever engraved in my head. (Do you remember it?) Mother says I can talk to her about anything. But if I do, she starts talking about Jesus and God, and lectures me about what I SHOULD be doing with my life and how I shouldn't be doing this or doing that. My religion. I HATE IT. I HATE IT SO, SO, SO, SO, MUCH. I WISH IT WAS FAKE, I WISH EVERYTHING WAS JUST A LIE. Sometimes my friends remind me that I'm christian, just a simple mention. And I just freeze, I say nothing, and it passes. I wish I could tell them, there is so much more than they could possibly imagine behind my 'christianity'. I just don't understand. I can't, I can't live a life as a good christian. Why are *** people evil? Why does everyone have to rot in hell? So little people I know fully fulfil the criteria of passing the test to go to heaven. That kind cash register, all these classmates who I've never talked to, my friends, who I know are all 'good' people. Yeah, they're all ****** burning for all eternity. With me. Because I can't find it in me to live my life doing nothing but 'christian things'. I have dreams, aspirations, wishes that are all impossible if I were to just follow christianity. Why is it so hard? I wish, I wish I could just walk away. But I can't, its been woven so intricately throughout my life I don't think I could ever simply stop. I won't even go remotely into detail, there's just too much, and too many thoughts I can't begin to put into words. But, well. Are you still a christian? Are you finally a devout one, or are you still unable to comprehend how godly it is to send so many people to hell? (Really. What the ****'s evil bout being ***. It isn't natural..?) How are the people at church, do you still talk to them? Do you go to a new church? This year's 2020, I'm sure you'll never forget this ******** of a year. If I mention 2017, I'd bet its not so easy to remember much. But 2020? SO many events can be listed at the top of your head, I'm sure. Are the future years worse? How's the economy, the environment? During lockdown, I felt so cold, and alone. Everything was so blurry and bleak. It's how I imagine moving into a small apartment in the city by yourself must feel (although that probably feels worse, lol). Are you living by yourself? Are you out in the world, maybe with a couple friends? That's one goal I've had for a long time, to be living in a nice apartment with my closest friends. I know this is getting long. I still have so so so so much more to say. I hope no one I know ever reads this and figures out who I am. And, I'll write one more, I promise. It will be private so I can pour out even more of myself to you. Haha, you must feel like some sort of alien, even if you're just me. Goodbye, and I hope you're not crying too much. (Or at all, maybe you're stronger now.)