A letter from August 8th, 2015

Dear FutureMe, (To start with I want to apologize for any typos and/or grammar mistakes this letter contains. Also, this letter is just my thoughts going wild, so it may or may not make sense. Wow, it would suck if the world went under before this gets sent.) Right now I am sitting here in my bed. A New York wall on my left and a bookshelf on my right full of books I have either read or am longing to read, but haven't had the time to. I am now 17. I have an unhealthy obsession with Matthew Healy (lead singer of The 1975), I love penne bolognese, reading and sleeping is my cardio and my pink fuzzy carpet is my second bed. It feels weird writing this to myself, I feel as though I am writing to a different person. Which I am, because I am not the same person I was 10 years ago and so you are probably not like me. As I am writing this I am wondering what music you like. What books have you read? Which is your favourite? Is it still The Perks of Being a Wallflower? Have you started saving for your retirement (if not, you should probably start soon, not to be bossy or anything)? Is Justin Bieber and One Direction minus Zayn Malik still a thing? Are you happy? Are you a psychologist? Can you barely afford rent each month or have you bought your own place? Have you traveled the world? Have you lived a year in New York? Did Leonardo DiCaprio finally win an Oscar? Are you married or engaged or do you have a boyfriend? Do you still have that super awesome Tumblr of yours? Do you have any tattoos? Do you remember writing this letter? Is it normal to drive flying cars? I hope you have the iPhone 16S in silver and one of those flying cars. Are you still friends with the people you were friends with 10 years ago? Do you have a nice boss? What do you miss about being the age I am now? I wonder what you wish you knew when you were 17. I can tell you what I feel. How I think I'm going to be 10 years from now. Firstly I don't think I did so well in school, although I am smart. I don't think I have a job I like. I think that I live under a bridge and that I still want to die, but I don't dare to because of the people around me. I think that I don't have any friends, because I shut every single one of them out. I think that walking in public makes you feel as though you are suffocating. I think that you miss being my age. So as you can see I don't see much hope for myself. I am depressed. I have social anxiety. I am borderline OCD and I have a tendency to eat too little. I hope I have stopped this when I am 27. I hope that you let yourself be loved, because I don't. I hope that you don't shut out the people who love you because they show you they care. I hope that you don't fall asleep praying to a God you don't believe in to give you the courage to take your own life. I hope that you don't harm yourself anymore and that the scares I caused you have faded. I hope that you have learned to say no. I hope that you go out and have fun. I hope you can say that you're happy with it being true. I hope you don't cry if the bathroom weight shows more than 50kg on the display. I wish I could see in to the future and see how you are. If you're happy or not. And if you are, I am so happy for you, but if not I want to fix it and help you. I want you to be proud of yourself for having made it this far. I want you to love yourself and see beauty when you look in the mirror. I want you to stop comparing yourself to others and just be you. I want you to do something meaningful. I want you to work with something you are truly passionate about. I want you to be creative. I don't know what the meaning of this letter is, but that's not important. I wish I could say I love you, but I don't love myself and you are me and so it would be a lie. I hope you have half of everything you ever wanted and that you are truly happy. Ending this letter feels wrong, I don't want to. It's scary to send it away and know that in 10 years from now, when I've forgotten all about it it'll show up in my inbox and I'll have to read it all over. So this was a little hello from 17 year old you. (Remember the retirement thing)