A letter from Jun 17th, 2021

Dear Me of 2026, I do not know if you are still around by the time this email will be sent to you. After all, nobody knows what the future holds. By now, you may have already become a lawyer. This may be late or not, but either way, congratulations. If you (or should I say "we") did not make, I'm really sorry but I do not know what I should say to make you feel better. I don't want to say "It's okay" because it may only be empty words for you just as it is for me as I'm writing this mail. This may be futile, but just in case, you can put a part of the blame on this year and the past years' versions of you. I will not explain further because I know you'll understand what that means. Regardless, I really do hope that you are holding up just fine, whether it's about career, family, society or just keeping up with life. Whoever or wherever you are today, if living becomes too hard of a task, try breathing instead. Just breathe until you gain the will again to be more than just a respiring being. And if it is not too much to ask, please try to recall me and your past selves from time to time. It's already a shame I can only write to you. How helpful would it have been to our past selves if they had received any news from us or the person we would later become. How helpful would it be if I receive a news from you about the outcomes of the decisions I am making right now. I have no idea if all that I am going through today as well as what our past selves did will be of importance to your existence in 2026. But remember that your first-half-of-2021 version is in a battle as of this moment. It may not be a war but it does gets exhausting sometimes. There are times when the turmoil comes to rest but when it starts, the strikes just keep coming one after another. In all honesty, it is battle which I do not understand the purpose for, nor the enemy I am trying to fight against. I am in pain but I do not have the reason to be hurting. I feel guilty but I have no excuse not to be. I am in despair but not to the point of crying. I am in a phase where happiness has become a rare guest. Well, at the very least, I believe it is only a phase. I feel that I am gradually finding comfort in darkness. At first I was scared of the thought of it but now I'm more scared of the fact that such thoughts are becoming less scarier. Nonetheless, if you are able to read this five years from now, that means I somehow managed to flick a light or maybe found the switch. Or even maybe, the battle have already ended. If not, at least it means today's version withstood it as well as the version from your yesterday. If you indeed read this mail, please tell ourselves we did a good job. I may not be able to hear it today but I think it would still be as comforting as it would be five years from now. If you have the time and the will, write another mail to our future self five or ten years from the time you read this. Your present self may need to let somethings out and our future self may need to remember who she was from your time. I did not intend this mail to be this long, but to end this, I'll just leave a latin phrase which gives me strength right now: "Forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit..."