A letter from May 25th, 2022

Dearest me, You’re an adult now. It must be a little liberating, but I won't pretend like it’s not unsettling. Even now four years away from where you are, I can’t help but feel distressed. There’s so much I want to do, but so little time to actually figure it out. How did you sort out what you want to do with our life? What are we majoring in? Have we even figured it out? I can only hope that we graduated with honors. Please do your best in attempting to salvage whatever time we have left to still stand out in a crowd of people. If we don’t start soon, I fear that we’ll end up just a normal person in this world. It doesn’t stop for anyone. Nor does it give passes of recognition to the common people out of pity. Please, promise me you’ll do something so extraordinary that we’ll have people spilling out of their mouths. I can’t help but think that you still have a fear of being forgotten. We need to be immortalized. In the vast expanse that is this world, I'm sure that you’d want to be the few out of billions of people that even I can't start to think about. No backstory to know because people didn’t even realize they existed at some point in time. Are we away from the unsatisfied feeling that I'm struggling with 24/7? I’m constantly bored, no matter how much I go out, no matter who I go out with to spend time with, I can never wake up the next day to feel satisfied. As I write this, I quickly come up with the conclusion that maybe we need to be a lot more involved. William Perkis is a great person to aspire to be like. He’s always working hard to stand out. I never go a day without hearing about a new event that he’ll be taking part in. He’s going for valedictorian soon, I just know it. I don’t want this letter to be empty and virtually meaningless just like the other letters I’ve written to “My future self”. Those were full of fake philosophies I never had intended in re-visiting. They were full of empty promises, dismissively written to get the day over with. I want this letter to be a guide, a constant reminder to me that will forever live at the back of my head. I desperately hope that this letter turns into my will power, my motivation to keep going in tough situations. Allow this to take into full effect. Let this be my drive and our power. I have to admit, I can only think of this letter to be used and/or used in a selfish way. Not only am I writing about what I expect out of our disorganized life, But I’m shamelessly ranting to you, (who now probably either can’t handle hearing and/or reading another despairing subject, or are thriving in what seems to be simple near perfection.), And above all else, I’m picturing this letter somehow being salvaged in the future. Plastered in a memorial, being sold in many copies. Sold to people who simply wish to relate to the level of self inflicted misery, or to those who can relate. (relate to such a painful level. Those who wish to better themselves to an unrealistic, almost metaphysical level.) How can I be so selfish? How can WE be so selfish? We receive enough attention, so why do I crave so much attention? In the present life we live together and travel as one. And why do we crave that attention even after *****? From an early age we would have known that we were destined for figurative immortality, but we didn’t show the signs. We are so painfully normal. So normal to the point where it seems so unforgivably flawed. We’re nothing but wannabe’s as of the time I'm writing this. I’m nothing but a poser, I’m a dull non-metal, fooling myself into believing that I can shine just like a metal, fooling myself into thinking that I can conduct like one. (Probably a terrible analogy to you right now. Seeing as you’re a lot more educated and experienced than I am as of now.) Right now, I’m desperately hoping that you lead a good path. Even if you end up having to carve a path in stone or a fresh road for you and others to follow in a hopeful legacy. I’m hoping that you live a stable, truthful life, (Saying that as if I’d never quoted “All is fair in love and war.”). Scratch that. Please TRY your best to make it on your own. Build a stable foundation for the future kids you and I evidently know we want, Don't accidentally make a dull life. Take good care of yourself and those around you. Your spouse, your future children, your immediate family, take care of mom and dad if they’re still around. Learn to forget about the nights you laid awake with a heavy heart and broken sobs at the sound of mom and dad putting on a show for the sake of their failing marriage. Learn to forgive anyone who has wronged you. One way or another, you cannot go to the grave with these vendetta’s. Are we still together? Does she get a lot better? Will we finally be able to go outside and enjoy nature and its natural beauty the way I dream of doing with her? I can only hope that she begins to feel better, sooner rather than later. four years seems like a reasonable amount of time for a recovery right? Although I'm asking this, I think we both know that there feels like there’s a gap in our relationship. It’s hard to describe. It’s not bad, nothing I'd complain about. It’s something that we’ll have to think about for hours on end before being thoroughly disturbed. I still love her though, I know we do. The simple thought of making her smile and laugh bashfully at the times we show affection to her, is enough to convince me to drop everything just for her. Will we own a house with a yard? A few pets and maybe two kids who just can’t seem to stop bickering? Will we go on trips? Maybe hiking, camping under the stars. Kissing them goodnight every night until they decide to move out sounds absolutely euphoric to me. Simple pleasures amongst those selfish dreams of being granted a great success sound like too much to ask for. I’d be living on cloud nine. Owning a firepit by our garden and lighting it at simple and even special occasions, putting our guard low as we talk about each other's week. Meeting our children’s lovers, and inviting them to the family. Being treated with respect at the workplace while also being seen as a shoulder to cry or even laugh on. Will we have the pleasure of staying up all night to finally wrap our heads around difficult subjects, only to feel the backlash of the unhealthy consumption of caffeinated engulf us? A strange thing to wish for, I know. You probably dread the idea just reading this letter, but it’s only human. Wanting to experience only the most human things that an adult can relate to because that’s the universal way of knowing that you're trying your best for the fruits of your labor. But who am I to give you a life lesson? I still have five years to react to this letter. Congratulations, you’ve brought us further than I ever could have hoped to. I am proud, I am SO proud.