Yeah, we were dancing!

This letter is from the future.

I deliver this message in peace. You need not fear me. I mean you no harm, however you will die. Nah, I’m fucking with you. You need not fear me, and you need not fear the future any more either.

Hello! I’d ask how you are doing, but I know it’s not great.

I can’t fully remember how you feel right now. In fact, the idea of attempting to dive into that feeling for the sake of specific details makes me a little nervous. As though paying them any attention will will them back into existence. A slightly deaf elderly dog hearing the salami package from across the house. Grandma sensing someone try to throw away leftovers. Woman broke her hip and still moves like lightning at the sound of mediocre tissue paper being “wasted”. I know it is terrifying visiting her in the hospital and the rehab facility, but she will be home soon.

I do remember a constant tightness. Gut and shoulders.

A walking belief of failure, embarrassment. Embarrassment of getting caught being proud of yourself. WHO ARE YOU TO BELIEVE IN YOURSELF?

Not good enough…incapable of being good enough. An evil marquee running all day every day.

Haunted by hopelessness.

Still believed in anything, everything but for everyone else.

Being held hostage by the belief in the bad for yourself.

Lost your morning routine. Waiting until 7am to get out of bed because you feel like you are constantly in the way. A child in trouble.

Always walking on egg shells-wondering what I will do wrong next? Soft feet and clenched lips. Shoving down the song.

Ahh, and here comes the guilt. I wonder if you feel it too or if you are stuck in your anger still?

How can I be so relieved about “losing” someone I love? One of your soul mates?

Speak about a tribe member with the same vitriol as Trent?

Fucking Trent.

Man, I hate that man. His smug face makes me want to punch him. Ugh, that tone in which he says “Hi, friend.” VOMIT.

The only way in which I am jealous of you is that his presence hasn’t darkened your doorway yet. Live in blissful unawareness as long as you can. As usual when it comes to Trent, I digress. Oh and just a little warning, don’t talk about him while driving. You see red and not the road.

So maybe you aren’t speaking about her with the same vitriol as Trent, but there is a resentment. I can’t say you’re in the right about it, but you are a human with feelings. Feel the anger, just don’t let it make you righteous. That is a friendship for the ages, and even though I can’t see the light yet, I know it will be okay.

Okay, let’s walk through some of those fears living within you, eating you alive.

Never fear, you start writing again. It starts with a new notepad. Remember that one you bought, left in the cart at Target and felt devastated? 3 pack of cute legal pads, flower gum top with beige and pale lines. Bought with the hope that it would fix your Writer’s Block and quite possibly everything about your life?

Well, it did. Eventually.

It took a few more months to repurchase it, and another couple weeks to put pen to paper, but the words have been flowing. Shitty first draft words, but words. You can’t skip the trash.

Maybe it was life timing or maybe it was the notebook but you are writing again……

(It was the notebook.)

Never fear, you start to love your body again. I know right now it feels like you might never feel comfortable in your own skin again. The dial of your gaze turned to skinny waists and thick hair and flat stomachs. Well I won’t lie to you, your stomach isn’t flat, and your love handles still defy science but you feel comfortable in your clothes. Even the red overalls! You consistently score between 50,000 and 60,000 in kickboxing-even on a bad day and….ooooo this is a big one. YOU FUCKIN NAIL TOE STAND. ON BOTH SIDES. Years you’ve been working on that one! People can feel your biceps through sweaters. Damn, it feels good to be a gangsta.

Never fear, you fall back in love with your hair a little. The wise Persephone in response to an anxiety attack hit you with “Maybe instead of uprooting your entire life, how about you just dye your hair?”

What a motherfucking genius. How lucky to have her in your life?!

The hair anxiety didn’t fully dissipate, wish I could tell you that, but the obsessive picture taking loosens it’s grip on your life.

Never fear things don’t get better with Dad and Jamie. Hold on, hear me out. They go radio silent. You won’t see them for Thanksgiving or Christmas. They won’t call on your birthday, but time really does heal all wounds. This wound isn’t fully healed yet, but you fall into acceptance and you fall into Martha’s family in the best way.

You yell at the TV with Vincent over football. BET ON THE SEAHWAWKS…..I think. Now I can’t remember.

You go on so many show adventures with McKenzie. THE LION KING! Bone chilling.

There is this moment at Christmas where you are curled up on the couch-pure peace.

Never fear, you remember how to dance again. To let go, just be, and dance.

You dance like no one is watching in a room full of people for hours. And with Pepper too! Thank you kickboxing cardio. You dance for hours, lost in the sauce.

Now for a little fun. Cause as you know, we are little rage baiters. (Never fear, the love of your silly comes back with a vengeance. You even start drunk biting again.)

No context things that will bring you an IMMENSE AMOUNT of joy (in no particular order) :

1. “I paid for the fucking meal.” Hehehehe, asshole can’t pretend we don’t exist anymore.

2. Life of a Showgirl

3. The Day of Unhinged Mania with Jennifer

4. Heated Rivalry

5. HEATED RIVALRY

6. Text Thread with Boston Lily <3

7. Coach Sammie

8. “I’m coming to the Cottage”

9. Princess Donut

10. THE THUMB TOUCH ON THE BEACH.

As I write this Nugget is attempting to nap in my lap. Furious that my arm which she is trying to use as a pillow, won’t stop moving. Blame her on this letter coming to an end.

(Never fear, she is still asking for forehead kisses.)

Life isn’t perfect. Ugh, don’t ask me why you have to find a new dentist.

But the switch flips.

Haunted Hopelessness —> Haunted Hope.

In less than 8 months.

The thought of the next 8 months fills me with excitement. How will my life get even better in the next 8 months? I can’t wait to find out.

If future us can find another mediocre man to sacrifice, she will send you a letter. Just kidding, of course she will be able to find one. Maybe it will be Trent. I believe in anything now so…

Oh, and one more thing, I love you.