Dear Future Me,

How are you, you sexy bitch?  It's been a while huh? Remember me, the 21-year old version of you? I bet you do. I guess gravity is no longer your friend. By now your boobs are hanging somewhere down your knees and your face will look like a warzone. No, I bet all those creams you've been smearing all over your face for the past few years haven't had the effect they promised. I suggest you sue the companies who made them. Bastards.

I hope that you've made your dreams come true. I know you've had a lot of them when you were my age. Hopes and dreams of better tomorrows. A chance to escape the past and become someone. Change the world. Or at least change someone's life for the better. I hope that by now you live in a nice house with a sexy guy who looks like a younger Gerard Butler. I hope you have that dog you named Barney Banana, which is perfectly raised and trained because your surprise touches put Cesar Millan to shame. You're the dog whisperer baby! But most of all, I hope you're happy.
I know the road's been tough. Believe me, I've been through it all with you right from the beginning. And I know the wounds won't heal that easily. They hurt like real bitches. But just remember that even when the road is pitch-black and you feel like you're in some sort of horror film and your friends thought it a good idea to split up, know that there is a chance you won't get hit by an axe in the head. Unless you're Paris Hilton. Oh wait, you probably won't know who that is anymore. Forget about it!

You've made mistakes. That's alright. You loved and let go. As you do. Just remember that the tears you've shed in the past and made you look like a panda, they will dry too! You'll be happy. Just give those overly-excited thoughts in your head some rest. Relax, chill out. Don't panic! Do not have panic attacks in irrelevant situations. You might accidentally step on a puppy. That is socially unacceptable. Just release the inner Bob Marley in you. Because guess what, it all turned out to be quite alright, didn't it?

How bad can it really be? I mean, unless you're a serial killer with her own line of action figures, I don't see anything you have to worry about. Just smile. And yeah, it's fine if you feel like shit once in a while. Everyone does. Just drop that mask, grab some ice cream and let it all out. You're heart will get broken more than once. Stamped on and crushed into a million pieces. Don't worry, nothing good glue can't fix. You just have to believe in yourself. Stop trying to be perfect at everything you do. You're not, and you won't ever be perfect, bitch! Just enjoy the now, live in the moment and never stop believing. Yes, I know about the horrible things people have said in the past. Don't worry, they live under a bridge now. Or they are married to a horrible spouse. Or they're in jail. Or all three combined. Shit happens.

What I'm trying to say is, choose your own happiness. Don't give a shit about what others might say. Do what makes you happy. Think about all the awesome people you've met along the way, the cool things you've done and how happy you felt doing exactly what you love. When you were me, you had potential. You were a star but the world just didn't see you shine yet. When you read this again, I better fucking hope you've accomplished something. I hope you let yourself shine for a change. Because only you can make the change. Nobody else can. This is getting all shades of melo-dramatic again and I think I should stop now.

See you in another 10 years!

Love,

You


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Note: I wrote this because I'm currently going through some shit and I always find writing helps me deal with it. I have many dreams and wishes I hope I will accomplish in the future. This is my way of reminding myself to change. To become a better person. To be proud of myself. This is in no way an attempt to be vain or whatever. Why am I even writing a footnote? Oh look! A giraffe!