DLand - the Impossible Letter

A letter to myself at age 15 from myself at age 25Hey there, Genie girl. I stuck this in your cello sheet music since nobody else would look there. I also know this has been sitting for about a week since you never opened your sheet music to practice. Not even once. It's alright. I'm not preaching. I know all this because I'm you, ten years from now. Strange but true. And I also know you well enough to know that you're suspicious of this letter's validity. You surmise that this is a joke from Fery or Kristophe. But, really, it's me. You. Whatever. Want proof? I know about that scratch the cat gave you a few years ago. The one you never got stitches for and probably should have but you never told anyone. It's okay. The scar fades and no one even notices it. But the real reason I'm writing is to give you a little advice to help you through the tough parts of life. The next ten years of it, at least. No, you don't have life figured out completely by age 25, despite your plans to conquer the world by 18. But life treats you well, all in all. First, keep cracking those books. The AP credits are really going to help you when it comes to college. And don't worry about what school you get into. It doesn't really matter if you go to Brown or not. Fate works in mysterious ways, just like Daddy says. Momma and Daddy are doing fine. They will have some hard times soon, both physically and mentally, but they prevail. You'll figure out they're a lot more human than you ever expected (shocker, I know) but they are still a shining example of two people who love and live for each other completely. Cherish every minute you have with them. And that boy you secretly pine for? Yeah, you'll go to prom together, but it's really not all that (although that red dress does look fabulous). And he really won't factor into your life after high school. Sure, he's adorable, but he's generally an immature ass and not worth your time. In fact, most of those “perfect” boys you pine for are not really worth it. Stick to your convictions. Don't be in such a hurry to grow up. And if the boy acts like a Chesapeake Bay Retriever, constantly trying to hump your leg, take the hint and leave. No, you still won't get your period for a few more months. But take solice in the fact that those stereotypical cramps and mood swings are things you will never have to deal with when the time comes. Listen to Fery. Celebrate it when it happens but don't use it as a crutch. Also, tampons kick ass so don't be afraid of them. I am happy to say that your best friend is still in your life. Your schedules don't allow you to eat lunch every Tuesday, but she's still there. And those rumors of a tawdry lesbian love triangle in high school stay rumors and never ever materialize. No, you don't become a computer engineer. You also don't marry Henry Rollins and live in a beach house in Florida and all those other things the Ouija board told you. I've been to Florida and it's really nothing to write home about. But you will join an incredibly dorky organization and meet some of the best friends you'll ever have in your life. Cherish them as well, as they're your family too. You'll travel to places you never thought you would go. But generally home is still home and you're always glad to come back. Remember all the reasons you love where you are and make sure they stay there. No, there still isn't a cure for diabetes. Yes, I'm just as surprised as you are. Talk to more folks about stem cell research and that might change. But don't worry. It hasn't slowed you down yet and it won't any time soon. And once you move out of the house you can stop wearing that incredibly lame medical tag. Lastly, don't ever worry that you're not good enough. You are pretty hard core, in my humble opinion, and you are destined for some pretty fucking amazing things. (Yeah, 25 year olds cuss a hell of a lot more when there aren't any demerits for it. Fuckin' deal.) I know you know that you're a good person. Just don't freak out about being original enough or smart enough or talented enough. Freaking out in general is a bad practice and I heartily recommend against it. I don't want to give away all the juicy parts of the next ten years or it wouldn't be worth it. And I know that pisses you off because you really want to know what your life is like now. Just trust me, babe, that life is good. It's taken all ten years to get here, but life is good. You probably should trash this letter. I know the pack rat in you wants to keep it and read it every time you start to doubt the future. And that's precisely why you need to burn this. Don't let the unknown eat you up inside. It's all good, sweets. See you in ten years. Love, You