A letter from Apr 22, 2025

Dear FutureMe, Hey. How are you doing? Genuinely. Pick up a mirror and tell me all about it. Have we cried a lot lately? God, I hope not! Are we winning? I hope so. I'm working hard toward that, and I pray it pays off. You'll be so proud of me, and I'll be so proud of you. You're a part of me that I can't shake off. So, genuinely, how are you? I'm asking because I know you, and I understand all the walls you have up to protect yourself. I know about the things you can't speak of, and I know the battles I'm fighting for us and how they're going so far. I'm asking because I know you're not one to share your worries and be vulnerable with anyone. I know no one really knows you enough to understand you because you never allow them to. I know you have things that keep you up at night and wake you up with anxiety. Do those things still matter now? Has time worked her magic? Does life hurt any less? Are you happy? How’s Mummy? And Daddy? And Mama? Kemi? And Toyo? I’ve always been the only one you could talk to, so please, talk to me. . . . I don’t know if I really want to tell you about me and how I’m doing. Will it remind you of the hurt you’ve left behind? Will it bring back a wave of abandoned memories that will probably feel like the perforation from a thousand needles? It’s scary not really knowing. I wrote an email journal entry a while back; you should probably read it. “For September” I’m not trying to overwhelm you with too much, so I'll just leave you to that for now. Bye for now.