Dear me, a few years (maybe decades) from now,

Well, if you're reading this, that's a pretty good start.

We have a lot to discuss, but neither enough words nor time, so let's try and stick to the basics. This means I'm going to skip some formalities—my apologies, but hopefully, we're past the small talk.

There are some things I'd like to clear up. I really want you to succeed and do something fulfilling, but don't take needless risks. Don't waste your energy on useless friends, and even family if it comes to that. There's no point living life for someone else. I think you'll have done this, but sometimes we all need a reminder.

Have you gotten out of our hometown? Have you left? Do you still talk to your high school friends? Your best friends? Do you still think about those mundane moments when life is different, like trying to sleep in the tent in the living room but can't because you're having an existential crisis at 5 years old? Do the scratches on the edge of your wedding ring tell a story you're proud of? Are the stains on your coffee mug deep and perhaps aesthetic? Are you sick of my questions? Correction: Are you now the type of person to be sick of my questions?

Okay, now that we've been through that, let's go into some of my thoughts, which are going to be similarly repetitive. I know that you're up for this (probably) because you and I don't change, and we're stubborn.

I hope you are doing better. I hope you don't take people for granted. I hope you appreciate the small things. I hope you live behind a white picket fence with kids, or don't, because at some point, you might have changed your mind. I hope that you surround yourself with good people. I hope that when you're old and wrinkly, you still write poetry. I hope that you take life more seriously than I do. I hope you write me back. I hope that between you and me, there's still something left of you and me—whether you and me are the same person is something that I'll leave to you. I hope for a lot.

But if there is one thing that I want you to take away other than a reminder, it's to find the helpers. In fact, help them. Become one. Right now, in my world, there aren't enough. Thank you.

From me, a few years (maybe decades) from the time you're reading this.