Dear adult me,
I'm tucking this letter safely inside your favorite copy of 'The Dragonlance Series', where I'm sure you're going to find it. Page 241--your page. This book should be worn and weathered by now. I say 'should', because I'm frantically hoping that you're still reading it; because people change and you--we--are no exception.
So, dear future self, it's definitely been a while since I last thought of you. The truth is, I'm afraid to. All those hopeless and overly irrelevant dreams I have right now are probably just a fade memory in your mind. Some of them you probably accomplished. Some others you probably don't even remember; not that I blame you, you probably thought that those ambitions were too ridiculous to realize.
Did you finally manage to publish your book? This may sound funny to you, but right now, publishing our book sounds like an amazing and generally possible idea. Maybe, as time passed, the thought started becoming more and more untenable and, consequently, you pushed it out of your mind. This had always been one of your flaws--letting go of things when they sound insane; insane to others, because everything seems logical to you, everything seems possible in your mind.
And all those other flaws you had, did you manage to grow out of them? Did you finally become the 'perfect' person everybody wanted? I doubt it--you always were crazy and I don't think that a few years could change that. You must still be that shy, self-conscious girl with black humor that only you could understand. You must still be making the same mistakes, over and over again, messing up over conversations with important people.
Remeber all those times that someone talked to you and you turned around slowly. "Me? You... are talking to me."
And then you sat there like an idiot, babbling endlessly and just screwing things over. And all those nights you couldn't sleep just because your mind was being bombared with all those things you could have said instead. And yet, you never regretted the words that you did say.
Ah, good ol' days, huh?
Well, everything is okay in the past, I guess. Every minute seems like a torture sometimes, but I would never change it for anything. I'm starting to learn to cherish every single moment--but you probably know that.
You know, one funny thing about the past is... you can't change it. You can hide it in a dark corner of your mind, you can forget it. But change it? Nah. But the future? You can always plan it. You can always guide yourself to the right decisions; to the right direction.
But the question I'm giving to you, adult self, is; what happens when the future becomes the past? Can you change it then, or what?
Ugh, I'm philosophizing again, ain't I? Yeah, we do have a tendency to over-dramatize thoughts, sentences and events. I'm not entirely sure if I want us to grow out of that. I believe that seeing things from a more mature point of view is actually an advantage and not a flaw. So, I'm hoping that you're still speculating words and actions this way.
Oh, well, let's get to a lighter side, shall we?
So... seen any robots, yet, or what? You are living in the future, after all. I often imagine what my present--your past--sounds like to you. Ancient and forgotten, I guess.
That thing people say... that "one learns from his past mistakes"... is it true? Have you learnt anything from my mistakes? Or shouldn't I have bothered making them, after all?
There are really so many things I want to ask, but I don't have the time to. And, to be
honest, I'm kind of scared to ask. Did we ever accomplish all those insane ambitions?
Did we join a rock band?
Did we study English Literature?
Did we ever move to U.S.A?
Did we get married? Have kids?
Did we join an acting team?
Did we help the sea-turtles?
Are we being 'we', ourselves?
Please, write back soon. I'm really looking forward to your answer.