A Letter

Dear Me of the Past,

I know that you don't want to hear it, but it will get better. I promise (trust me, I'm a pretty damn good source of this information). There are ups and downs, but that's to be expected. There's no way you can actually believe that there won't be ups and downs—I know you don't believe that (and I am one-hundred percent sure I know because I'm a damn good source for this information).

Although there is quite a lot of information I behold that you probably are begging to know, I won't spoil it. I won't spoil the surprises you are to come upon in life because if I do, then they won't be surprised—they'll just be expected and you'll over prepare for it (and I know you would over prepare whether you want to admit it or not). For example, if I told you who would propose to you and when, you would plan out, as best as possible, exactly what you'll wear, what you'll do, how much makeup you'll put on. It'd be to planned and not special enough.

I know, I know; I haven't told you shit. But I wasn't planning on telling you anything.

Love,

You of the Future

P.S. People are unappreciative assholes. Don't pay attention to them.