A letter from May 7th, 2021

Dear FutureMe, Hey. Wow, this is insanely awkward, but I hope my future self feels better about themself. Should I refer to you directly? I think of my current and past selves as different people, so I guess it’s okay to think of my future self as a separate person as well. I’m not sure if I’ll have memories from this time of my life because of my ****** mental health, but this year was really difficult for me. It felt like I was constantly drowning myself but coming back up to breathe before I could actually die. Rinse, wash and repeat. I was fine during the beginning of the year because I constantly ran on anxiety, but I missed one assignment and everything just spiraled from there. Like being unwound after being all tight and bottled up. I started failing classes, didn’t have any motivation to work, and thought of dying and running away a lot but never actually went through with it because I was (am) a coward. In fact, it’s a miracle in itself if I’m alive in the future to be reading this letter. Maybe that’s something worth celebrating. Is it okay to be happy over such things that are almost guaranteed for the rest of my peers? I hope I have an answer to this question in the future. I did struggle a lot, but I also got to make really close friends. That probably doesn’t make sense since I was online all year, but we talked a lot over text. I’m sure many people think technology makes words less meaningful — perhaps they lack the heartfelt tone or tender expressions which accompany words spoken in-person — but it’s really the only thing that kept me alive through this year. Being around them makes me feel like it’s okay to ask for help. I hope my future self is still friends with them. At least, at this moment, they’re the one part of my life I hope to never lose. I would give up the world for them. I wish I had the courage to say this directly to them. Alas, I am a coward — a coward who is terrible at expressing emotions and properly communicating their needs. Maybe, in the future, I got the help I needed, went to therapy and unraveled my feelings. Maybe I’m still struggling. Maybe this letter was delivered to a recipient who is no longer alive. Maybe the email I scheduled to send this to is null. Maybe I’m in a band. I did get a bass guitar, after all. I hope I started learning it and didn’t quit. I hope I’m making music like I always wanted. If I am making music, I hope it finds a place in other people’s hearts and resonates with them, gives them solace and peace of mind. Am I being selfish by wishing for too many things? If any one of my hopes come true, I hope for it to be making music that people enjoy. I feel like I’m thinking too highly of myself thinking I’ll be able to make music, so I’ll just stop there. Um, yeah. To wrap this up... I guess, if it’s my future self reading this, I hope you’re not in a bad place, somewhere better than where I am now. If I’m not alive in the future and someone else I know is reading this... um, hey? Sorry for dying. (What an awkward way to end a letter. Haha... very fitting for someone like me.) Sincerely, Enzo (this is an alias) P.S. Um, a few other things I forgot to mention. Stray Kids’ music really helped me. I hope I picked up reading again, and I hope I came to terms with my identity. Okay, sorry. That’s all. Bye. :)