Write a Letter to the future (recovered) you
Dear Future Me,
I used to write a letter like this at the end of every diary, d’you remember? I wonder how I would feel reading those now, and how you’ll feel reading this.
I read a book once where all these different stories of the afterlife were imagined. In one story, the writer tries to think of a “fair” age for people in heaven to be. S/he decides that each person should be split into selves at different ages. So 9-year-old me would be hanging out with kids, and 26-year-old me would be hanging out with other twenty-somethings. They would have more in common with the same-aged selves of others, than with their own selves at different ages. And the different-aged selves would meet up for re-unions, like a family, every now and then.
I wonder who you’re hanging out with, now? And where you’re at. I wonder if we met, whether you would like me as I am now?
I used to have a million hopes for Future Me. Ages by which I would have certain things, be or do certain things. Ten-year-old me would be shocked that I don’t have kids yet. This is different; I don’t hope specific things for you. Although you don’t fully exist yet, I have decided not to put that pressure on us. There are things I would like but these are the more important things:
I hope you haven’t forgotten what things are like now. But I hope you are past them.
I hope you’ are happy. I hope you are safe. I hope you keep well.
Love (I hope by now I love you?)