In what universe does that ever end well? It doesn’t matter if you wrote it to your ten-years-in-the-future self or your forty-years-in-the-future self, that future self will always pale in comparison to what you imagined.
Never has anyone opened one of those letters, read “You will have two kids and be making a million dollars,” and said, “Nice try, me as a child, but I actually have THREE kids and I’m making TWO million dollars.” Nope. That doesn’t happen.
Instead, you open that letter, read that phrase, look around and realize that you’re actually alone in your single bed eating a cannoli.
Because that’s real life. Thinking your future bed would be filled with action instead of cannoli crumbs.
If I were to write a letter to my future self now - five, ten, twenty years in the future, no matter - here’s exactly what it would say:
Hello you, er, me-
Glad you made it this far. That’s a real accomplishment. I bet you’re sitting alone while reading this. And not the waiting for someone to come in from the other room alone. Like, alone alone. No boyfriends. No prospects. Just there. Alone.
Love, me, er, you
See how I set myself up for success with that letter? Even if I have a friend in the room with me as I read it, that’s a win! If I’m going on a date later in the week, fantastic. If I have a boyfriend, man I underestimated myself. And what if, God forbid, I’m married? Well I’m just going to call it a life because it won’t get better than that.
No comments:
Post a Comment