A letter from May 18th, 2021

Dear FutureMe, I’m in bed right now. Not much is going on. I’m 18, heading to college, major: mathematics. I guess life is okay. I’ve set the date on this letter to deliver in May 2025, around the time that future me (you) should be graduating. Anyway. I’m sorry about how we had to grow up. I know we never got the childhood most kids got, with the terminal diagnosis **** and all that. Good news is that we lived. I’m sorry about our parents. I know they caused a lot of pain. For all I know, they still might be in the future. I do have some questions for you. Are you still depressed? I know that seems like a weird thing to ask, but I’m curious. It’s pretty bad as of right now, and I hope it’s improved at least a little. Do you have an okay job? I’ve got two right now, and I applied for a third. It’s exhausting, but I’ll be okay. Do you have at least one person you can trust? A best friend, s/o, etc. would be nice. I know we really got a bad luck of the draw kinda deal with life. But it’s okay. We’ll be okay. Past Me