Dear Older Me

Dear older me,

I’m writing this at the age of 22, through the broken pieces of my life’s experiences. A part of me thinks I have my whole life ahead of me. The other part of me can’t help but see how much I haven’t done and how far my life is from ‘being sorted’. But I hope one day we find out what that truly means.

I hope you’ve achieved your dreams and everything that our heart desires. I expect everything to be crossed off our bucket list and you to have found a career that makes you smile every day. It doesn’t have to earn us millions as long as it makes you happy.

I know I’ve prevented myself from doing lots of things. I am the only person who is holding us back from reaching our potential but I’m trying to protect us from getting hurt. I know my methods might not be the best way forward but I’m working on it to make a better life for you.

I hope you look back at this period of our life and see how hard I’ve tried, how hard I am fighting. As I’m sat here writing this I fear that I’ve lost my direction. I have no vision of where my life is heading. I’m just trying to do what I think is right at the moment. I guess I’ll never know if I’ve made the right decision, that is until I’m you. But even then, you might not know. Maybe it’s something we never get to find out. I guess there comes a point where we have to stop looking back.

And I hope you do. I hope you let go of the past and started living your life. Cut yourself free of the shackles that have chained us down for so long. I would hate to think that we are never truly free. The past has taken up so much of our life already and I hope it doesn’t eat away at our future.

I hope you find whatever it is I am looking for and completed the pursuit for peace and happiness that I have started. But I hope you don’t just keep it for our self. I hope you do some good with it, help other people lost in the ocean like I am right now. Because I’m starting believe that this is our true calling.

It’s really strange writing to someone who’s doesn’t quite exist. You could be a complete stranger, living an unfamiliar life. Or the same person living in the same skin that’s been weathered by the seasons. But whoever you turned out be I just hope that you never lose sight of what’s important and the fabrics that make you, well me I guess.

You are the part of me that doesn’t quite exist. But each day that I live is a page written of our chapter, and out of these chapters the story of your life is written.

I am the author of you and I hope I’ve made you proud.

Always with you
The younger version of you

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