somedeeptales

[somedeeptales]

A letter to my younger self

Dear younger self, It’s me at 60, and by me I mean you. Yeah, I don’t get it either, but whatever. Listen, you don't know it yet, but in a year, your life will change. You'll take your first ever plane trip. You'll be in a new country where you don't speak the language. Where you'll live in a single cramped room; in a house full of strange new sounds and the smells and people. One night, you'll find yourself all alone, gazing up at the sky, so clearer and bluer than you're used to, and know the feeling of homesickness before you utter the word. I know you still love the smell of butterfly bushes, but now you cherish it a little less. You still chase butterflies just like you always have, but you’re more careful not to hurt them--or anything else. You remember that song you like, the one that says, “life is but a dream?” Well, it’s been exactly like that. You’re bewitched by a chorus of crickets and the hum of lotus pods shaking their rattles in the hot summer air, and now you’re here. It all happens so very fast. Life goes on forever. But hey, you are still good friends with a few. You saw them today, and you all have cried while talking about life, things where you all left, how you guys have grown, and what you all have missed. Some things stay the same, but they mean more as life goes on. Now, I don't think about you often, and that seems like an oversight. Maybe it's just self-preservation. If you know the stove is hot, why touch it? But when I do think of you, I wonder if there's anything I can do to make any of that better for you. Probably not, I'm sad to say. The lessons you'll soon learn will stay with you for a long time. Maybe forever - jury's still out on that one. You'll spend the rest of your life looking for safety, Constancy, And as much as I resent the cliche - LOVE. Even if I could go back, be there with you, I don't think anything I can say or do will change the course of your life, or who you will become. And that may sound like something tragic, but truly, it's not. We both know that there are no guarantees, and we'll learn to stop looking for them in time. But for now, come here. I want to give you a hug, and hold you until the noise stops, and the shaking goes away. It doesn't matter what they say; it's okay to cry. It's okay to be afraid, and it's okay to be sad, or angry, or whatever the moment demands. It's okay... it's okay whatever you've done, you did great. Much love, Your older self



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