I will write about the following, leave one in my ask box.
This is going to be a really personal post. Very vague as well, unless you know me well. I recommend not reading it, and if you do, don’t ask me anything.
Dear Future Me,
Hey girl. You’ve been through some tough shit these past years. You got that shitty Jared you had to deal with, and Geoff gave you fucking hell back in 2011. But hey! Look where you got! You survived this long! Hey, I don’t know what year it is, but you may or may not have graduated! You survived Jasper, and that, my friend, is a special thing. You deserve a medal. And all that tech work? German state? Man, I’m so proud of myself.
I’m sure you’ve aspired to be an amazing artist. Maybe you got that panel you wanted at Akon? Either way, I’m sure you’ve approved in ways I can’t even imagine right now.
I’m in a ditch right now. You know. We’ll never forget that date, will we? The screams my father let out in grief, and the way I howled to the point where I threw up. It was a shitty day, wasn’t it? Well, I’m stuck in that time. I’ve shallowed out. Can’t be arsed to leave the house and I look like a wreck. Dark circles under my eyes and tangled hair. I’ve gone on a hunger strike too. But, I guess that’s what grief does to you. I really thank some people in this community for keeping me from slitting my wrists and completely shutting everything out. Twelve hour calls are a pain, but they’ve helped me so much.
But, if you’re still going on, I guess it means that I recovered. I brushed myself off and moved on. Hell, maybe I even got with that special someone, who knows!? I’m really excited for my future…
We’ve gone through hell. We’ve been sent there fifty times and still manage to escape. We’re barely breathing, dying, and emotionally dead, but we survived. We got through it. We kept going. I don’t know who it was who pulled us out of our pit. Was it Michael? Probably. But you won’t tell me of course. Maybe it’s that someone…?
Well, long story short, you did it, girl. You survived these horrid years. I’m scared for next year, of course. I’m scared for August to come next year. But I’m sure we can get through it. Knowing myself, you are just going to skim through this and be like, ’what the fuck was I thinking back then?’ but, hey, really. I deserve to be proud of myself. Because we’ve gone through hell, and we deserve some joy.
