A letter from November 21st, 2015

Dear FutureMe, Today is November 21, 2015. I was supposed to write this letter a week and a day ago, but, I don't know, it's been a ****** up week and a day. This year on your birthday, believe it or not, Paris was attacked by a terrorist organization. This year, you broke up with Manny Rodriguez, and that's screwed up your outlook on life and on being a witness. This year, you've cried more times than probably any year before, and I mean just the past three months. I feel like **** today. I'm at Peppino's writing this on one of those small restaurant receipt papers. Peppino's makes me feel like *****. OK, 27. I'm going to number you like you're one of the doctors. You're doctor 27. I'm 17. 10 doctors later. Wow. How do I even know I won't die before Doctor 27? I don't. Here we go. Whatever. I'm going to try to look at every year as a regeneration (I need to tell that to 18 so she remembers). So don't feel stuck. Don't be stuck. If you're stuck, unstuck yourself. I'm stuck. I'm so ******* stuck. But I've decided to try to work on that. So you will too. Also I've decided some things about settling. I don't want to settle. When I was with Manny, I wasn't settling. He was who I wanted. Since I don't think I'm going to get him, no more settling. (going to tell 18 that too). Baby, I hope you haven't settled for anything. No settling. Do you hear me? Do what you want. Be happy. Miserable me can't stress that enough. Be happy, please. "Be good to yourself, and be kind to yourself."