A letter from November 3rd, 2025

Peaceful right?

Dear FutureMe,

We made it to the University of our dreams. It's disheartening to say that you not only hate your course but also how small the university is. Even after all these years, I'm someone who still struggles with envy. I'm constantly green with envy. As I watch others in their chosen universities, I can't help but question whether I've made a mistake. I failed to make friends in my first year. I have made acquaintances and met very sweet women with whom I have very shallow level relationships with. I don't have anyone to blame in that respect, besides myself. I was complacent. A part of me can't help but think I didn't want friends bad enough but now I regret it. As I watch my childhood friends form new bonds, I find myself getting greener by the minute. As they mention names and quickly catch themselves when they realise that I wouldn't know who it is they are talking about, it's becoming blatantly obvious that the people I grew up with and consider my closest and dearest companions have branched out and are now forming new bonds. Potential life-long bonds which I am not making. I feel as if I have missed out on an experience. It was a well-known joke that the key mark in knowing whether you'd taken full advantage of University was the 'multi-racial friend group sitting on grass'. I suppose with the one friend I do have, we are bi-racial. I'm somewhat there. But we do not sit on grass. We find ourselves laughing in the library as we eat unhealthy snacks. I do not want you to think that I am unhappy, I'm not. It is only when I see what I could have that I forget, albeit momentarily, what it is that I do have. I'm content, I have one friend and we stick together. I believe I can achieve good grades by the end of the 3 years which is all that matters to me. Other than that, I'm content. I can't shake off that ache in my heart when I hear my friends talk about their new friends, their house mates, their course mates and whatnot but I also believe that it is natural. I love them and wish I could keep them to myself but I also know that I want my friends to experience everything, and sometimes that comes from new friends. I guess I'm just trying to come to terms with it all. I'm confident I'll make peace with it soon.
On another note, our first relationship came and went. it was a tedious thing. he was exhausting from the beginning to the end, it feels harsh to say this about another person but I wouldn't ever say it to his face. I found myself wishing to be alone everytime we were together. I would find myself wondering if this was really it. Over the years you'd hear all types of friends talk about how they want a boyfriend, how desperately they want a man to be loyal to them, and them only. To only express emotion to them and only focus on them—we were all teenage girls at the time. I'll give them grace on certain desires since we didn't know better. We met by chance really, I hadn't been looking for a relationship and neither had he. We talked for a very long time, longer than I'd ever publicly admit, that was where I went wrong. He was my first of some things, I've never placed too much importance on ***. I believe that it's as meaningful as you make it. I was never the virgin who was saving for someone special, although I suppose I was to a certain extent. they didn't have to be my partner or someone I loved. my only criteria was that they respected me as a person. when it comes to dealing with men, that has always been my number one, do they see beyond everything and just see a person? someone who is deserving of kindness and respect? during my first year of university, I realised that men were fun but I hadn't met any with any real substance. I still haven't. I'm not particularly hopeful that I'll meet any but I'm also not feeling very pessimistic at the moment. of course I believe there are kind men, sweet men, funny men, beautiful men. just like women, men have layers and are multi-dimensional, I'm just yet to meet a man like that. I have completely left my point. so yes, we went on a few dates, we talked all the time. he was very shy and awkward but also very clingy. when we had first met, he hadn't presented himself in that sense. he had painted himself as a very independent man and that wasn't something he'd said would change when he'd get into a relationship. I hope it's clear that I'm referencing the clinginess as the issue, not his shyness. I found it endearing that he was shy, in a way it made him feel safe to me. he felt non-threatening. however, once we officially started dating I began to feel this weight on my chest. he would call and I would know it is because something has gone wrong and I must talk to him about his feelings, at first this was fine, but then it became a weekly occurence, then daily. it is ironic that as someone who was been called overly-emotional and weak, those were intended to be synonymous, I could ever think of someone else as overly emotional but he truly was just that. he wasn't weak by any means but he also was always low. I would build him back up only for him to drop back again, he wasn't depressed but he was incredibly fragile. it was tiresome and I found myself resenting him. I would avoid calls because I was fearful that I would have to soothe him about yet another non-issue. it was constant, even on days where I had particularly stressful events happening, I would have to put that aside. I would find myself loathing his presence, his voice, his smell and worst of all, his tears. Of course we all hate when our partner cries but my reasoning was different. You can imagine that it wasn't because I did not want him to feel sadness or pain because I wanted only good things for him—but no, I wished good things for him because it meant I could find peace. My shoulder could finally dry from all the tears he was constantly leaking onto it. I feel like I am digging myself deeper into the grave here, I hope you do not think I am horrible. he did call me an ice queen at some point, this was when we were on good terms which warrants some questions, I suppose. As I tore my first year uni room apart, I also tore our relationship into nothing. I broke it off with him and proceeded to move back home the next day. Alas, first year of university was over and so was my first relationship. One thing I am grateful for as I am enduring my second year is that as I am burning green with envy, I can cross relationship off of that list. Even when I see the most charming couple, I feel nothing but happiness for them because I know that true happiness is something I can also find within myself. I am content, I feel no desire for a romantic companion. My friends have also started to have romantic relationships or mishaps and 'entanglements' but i simply give them a listening ear and sleep like a baby afterwards. I am free from the curse of desiring a boyfriend, I am embarrassed to say that I had to experience it myself but sometimes warnings aren't enough, you just have to walk the **** path yourself to learn the lesson.
We are back to reading. I have broadened my horizons, i don't just read classics but I read thrillers, sci-fi, horror, gothic literature, and even dabble in fantasy. Time has been passing by and my reading list only grows, it feels good to get back to my hobby. when I was in a relationship, I barely had the time to do the things I love. Currently, I am reading Rosemary's Baby. I have finished reading Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin, it was a beautiful book. I think it might be my favourite book of all time. I found David to be disgustingly relatable. I worry about that, sometimes I don't even want to acknowledge my ********* because I do not have the energy to figure out what that would mean for my life. I do not have that liberty just yet. I want to tackle some more books before the year ends. I do think I'm doing decent this year.
I have been going to church often, it no longer makes me feel as miserable as it did before but I will not lie and say I enjoy it. I'm simply counting down the years until I can move away from home permanently and I will no longer attend. it is a place for believers and that then makes me a fraud. I have no place in church, my parents ask me if I want to take any serious roles in the church and I shake my head and say no. if I become important in the church, it'll be harder when I disappear. church used to fill me with anxiety, it would be leaking out of me through tears, through the cuts on my wrists and through my anger. I resented my parents for making me adjust my life for a God I did not believe in but there is no place for non-believers in my family. I still resent my father for a multitude of reasons, some of which I'll never forgive. I will find happiness when I move out. when I do not have to water myself down. when I can truly, truly be me. when I do move out, I won't date, I'll take that time for myself. I want to know who I am when I am not performing for my parents. For my boyfriend. For anyone. I want to know who I am.
Lastly, our Auntie died. She was only 38 years old. she died of a curable disease but she was too ashamed to admit that she had it and at the end, shame ****** her. I was angry for a while. I remember at church, I was at the New Year's service as we were crossing from 2024 to 2025 and the pastor said, 'thank God for allowing you to make it to the new year because there are others who didn't'. I was filled with anger. What made me so deserving of seeing a new year? What made my auntie less deserving? there were children who hadn't made it, there were fathers, brothers, aunties, mothers, friends who hadn't made it. I have never throught of myself as a good person, I am selfish, I can be mean and too stubborn, I have qualities that if there really was a God, I doubt that I would have made the list of the people deserving to cross over. despite all of this, I have 100% attendance at church this year. it's just what must be done at the moment. I miss my auntie. she's all I pray for when it's prayer time over at the church. I pray she's happy, that she finds peace. she'd wanted to get married and to have children, all things I do not want. I feel guilty for not wanting them, knowing that she died and could not have them. that is beside the point, she raised me and poured her love into me. she had a child in me. I will never forget her or her love.
I'm going to end this letter here, I hadn't planned on using bullet points, which u know you'll hate but im typing this out on my phones 1am and it wouldn't let me scroll down past a certain point unless I used bullet points. I hope you'll understand, you whiny *****. I find myself dreaming of a long life nowadays, I hope you understand what I mean. it's fun to know there is secrecy even within yourself. I love you and I was saddened by our past letters but also proud, we have progressed but also failed in certain aspects. we are human, we have our vices and virtues, I'm not sure which are winning currently. I am at an age where my teenage self did not think I would reach, I wonder if I'll reach the age that I am thinking of now. I feel slightly doubtful. I can't help but feel this sense of impending doom lately. like I am going to die any second. maybe that's why this letter is the longest of them all. I have been so aware of my mortality. if I do die, I hope they cremate me and my sister will be the one to spread my ashes somewhere beautiful. it feels dark ending it on this note but I want to maintain the level of honesty that my other letters had. hopefully I am alive and healthy to receive this ridiculously boring letter and can then return the favour by writing another snoozefest of a letter.
best regards :)

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