Continued: A letter from November 5th, 2014

Dear FutureMe, Because I do, I do love him! And I want to tell him so so much. I constantly am looking at my phone or my computer, waiting for him to reply, and I just want to send another message following the previous one, just say, "PS I love you." So, so badly. Or I get a text from him and it just makes me smile so much, and I just want to answer, "I love you," but I can't, I can't do that, so I say something else. But I want to be able to just tell him I love him. He might know anyway, but that doesn't really help me much. Is it bad that I don't really want to ask you a bunch of questions? I mean, I guess I'm curious as to where you live, what you're doing, etc. But I really don't care about anything much unless it involves Austin. That's probably very bad and I'll probably change soon and you probably think I'm ridiculous and foolish and young and I don't know what I'm talking about. And perhaps all of that is true. But right now, in this moment, I love him. I'm sitting here, it's 5:09 pm on Wednesday, November 6, 2014, and I'm sitting on the couch in my room, the small green-ish one, and I'm wearing a rainbow tutu, and my glasses because Austin said I should and that I look fine either way (I don't know why I get happy about "fine"), and I obviously have my DFTBA wristband on, and I don't have my watch necklace on because it broke two days ago at rehearsals when I was skipping and I slipped and fell. And the second night of The Brides of March is starting in two hours but I won't be there because I'll be at my stupid physics class at Shasta College. But I love Austin I love him and L nops ilw and I wish with all my heart that... I don't know. I want to tell him, I want to kiss him, I want to be with him forever. Go ahead and laugh, Skyler Celeste I-Probably-Have-a-Different-Last-Name-Now-But-If-It's-Not-Witherspoon-Then-I-Don't-Really-Care. But this was your life at one point too. You are probably still just as pretentious as I am, you just show it differently, or hide it. Sigh. I have to go to physics, and Ashlyn has to go to mainstage. And you probably have adult **** to do as well. So farewell. Me From the Past