A letter from January 9th, 2015

Dear FutureMe, You are 21 and a day old. I wonder what its like. You are 11 while writing this. You are crushing on Cameron Montalbano, who is adorable, and your best friend is Olivia Spitz. Is it still the same? Or did things differ? Did you go to The Art Institute, like you wanted? Are you married at such a young age, like you are planning to be? I bet you won't even get this, since GMAIL will be long gone I think. Maybe we're dead. That would be sad. But we can't do anything about it, can we? It's so weird to be writing to your older self. That's it I guess.