A letter from May 29th, 2020

Dear FutureMe, I'm proud of you, that's all i really have to say—want to say. But, I'm gonna say more anyway. Right now it is March of 2020. As you know March usually sucks, hopefully your karma with this particular month has since stopped, but if not, I hope it at least doesn't get worse than this year. I wonder if the world ever went back to 'normal.' I know you have trouble remembering somethings, so in case your forgot, I'm going to remind you what life used to be like. Picture the inability to move due to the surrounding bodies—though your not claustrophobic, not one bit. You feel blissful and light. It takes no effort to stay standing, and not just that—you are jumping, with hundreds of other people all at the same time. The perfect unity. Not one person off beat. You hear your friends screaming the lyrics to your favorite songs, you were too just a moment earlier, though now instead you decide to just take it all in: the heat, the sweat, the sound, the pressure, the pain, the exhaustion, the presence—but most importantly: the feeling. The pure bliss. Happiness. This intimacy with strangers and friends. The single identity everyone established the moment the music started. Your mind is so empty yet full at the same time. It is empty of thoughts—nothing is coherent—yet it is full, almost cloudy. All of your senses, so bombarded with feelings, with no time to process. Though it is not scary, you are not overwhelmed. You feel safe, and protected. Though they are strangers, there is a certain closeness that can not be replicated in any other setting. You begin to sing again, though not as loud as before, you are now conscious of the slight pain in your vocal chords. You sing—yet you do not hear yourself. You listen—but not to the artist. You look—yet you don't really see anything. You hear the music from the crowd, you feel the experience of the room. Your eyes blur of the stage—of the people. Now you see color. Bright whites to deep reds. The flashes of nothing, darkness, bring you back. The words continue to flow with pure muscle memory. You have no control on your movements, your words, or even your thoughts. Yet the best word to describe it—is peace. I know I got a little of topic, I just wanted you to be able to truly feel that once more if you were never able to again. I do not know the future. But I know you. You are stronger than you think, and way more stubborn than you want to be. Sometimes life is hard, and the only good parts are in your memory, but you must remember you never know whats ahead. There is always a light at the end of the tunnel, the only question is how long is the tunnel. My tunnel has gone on for 9 years, and what keeps me going is knowing it all passes by. The good and the bad. Life doesn't stop when you do. You can't miss out on the good parts of life because you are dwelling on the bad. Even if you fee like the good parts are few and far in between, you'll never be able to tell the future. If life gets too hard, take a break. Disappear. Find a new person to become for a while, and when its been long enough come back. You just have to promise to always come back. Never make a permanent choice on the whim. Be stupid, make memories, laugh, find happiness in small momentary things—yet say they'll last forever. But don't hurt yourself. Forget the things you should forget. Don't try so hard—and live. Don't think to much, but remember you cant make a decision while running from it. Face your problems head on, but don't make extra problems for yourself. Live life peacefully, but never take it for granted. Live for the serendipitous moments, and make your you always recognize the kairosclersis ones too. I don't really know what I'm writing at this point, I guess I'm just hoping you feel happy—though remember happiness does come and go. I really am proud of you. I know we thought we'd never make it this far, but at this point I have faith your not going anywhere. I believe you are stronger than I am now. You are smarter than me, wiser than me, and more confident then me. I know I keep saying you cant tell the future. But that's you... I can tell the future—and you're beautiful. p.s. you will be receiving another email soon including somethings to help you remember what it was like for me. I'll tell you a few of my favorite high school stories and include a playlist to listen too while reading. I think ill also send some movies you should re-watch and maybe a couple of miscellaneous items you can reminisce about.