Dear 38-Year-Old Me,

 

         Dear Me,

         How has life treated you? Coming from someone who doesn’t know exactly what they want to do for the rest of their life and is just faking until they make it, I hope you made it. I hope, above anything else, that you’re happy, because I don’t know what life could be like for you. Whether you live on the east coast or the west, whether you work at a small or large business, or you have forged another path in life.

         I idealize my life, with what it can be, and I hope that doesn’t make me unhappy with reality. No matter where life took you, I hope it’s good. In my last letter to my future self, I mentioned all my friends, if I keep in touch with them, but I doubt that I do by now. They’re probably distant memories of a past life, but I hope the relationships I have now are just as fulfilling.

         Success is a difficult thing to define, really, as I want to define success as wealth and luxury but more accurately, success is joy in life. I don’t know any specifics – romantic relationships, pets, homes – but I do know that I want to be happy. In all my idealizations, there’s an emptiness. I think that emptiness is because it’s not real. This – you, the future, my life – you will be real. You are real. I hope you aren’t hollow; I hope you’re successful.

         There are so many wishes in life I want to achieve; I want to travel, I want to be more confident, I want to be good at my job, and I want to enjoy life. My life. How I want to live it. I hope that I do. I hope that you do. I don’t have questions, I don’t have assumptions, because right now I’m eighteen and I just changed my major and I don’t know what I’m doing – only know that I like to write. So I hope that you know a little more by now, and I hope that you know you’re worth, because you mean a lot to me.

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