(this is a letter intended for myself in 5 years.)
okay… hi me,
well, you know who you are, but you might not remember me. so, i guess i’ll reintroduce myself. i’m you, fran. the past you, obviously. this is weird, where are you reading this rn? i’m the version of you that has just learned how to do a base routine and thinks thin brows looks good on us. we aren’t in a good place rn. it’s not always bad, but most of the time, it is. it’s a lot worse than you probably remember. it’s worse than 2014. i hope it’s still by our bedside. does his smile still make us sad? there are a lot of things that might be different about us. but, here is what’s the same. we have stitch plushies. we cut off a lot of people. we graduated. we are very very broke. we are afraid. we still haven’t finished 1q84. we wish we were honest sooner. we are in love. we are scared by it constantly. we think he’s dreamy. we are alone very often. we feel lonely. we don’t like that. we feel a lot of guilt. we don’t know how to get rid of that. we got sexually harassed recently. we had a lot of trauma resurface after that. we don’t feel safe. we don’t like asking for help. we are scared to sleep still. we started pulling eyelashes again. we cry in the shower. we shower in the dark. we dance naked in the afternoons. we like our body. we don’t like our body. we are exhausted. we still don’t know how to handle panic attacks. we know what anxiety attacks are now. we don’t tell anyone when they happen. we like strawberry cheesecake ice cream (too much, really). we like dildos. we feel free. we feel anxious. we think the truman show and fantastic mr fox are our top 2 films. we know the cat in the hat is still number 1. we wish we could scream at a few people. we feel like a failure most days. we feel better without those friends. we finally stood up for ourself. we don’t miss the family either. we are on a 9 constantly. we still don’t like alcohol. we don’t hate anyone. we feel lost. we really hated university. we feel sad during summer. we love spring. we think we are depressed. we still refuse to buy new glasses. we like dressing up. we miss lexapro. we forced ourself to pretend like a lot of stuff. we still want a green sofa. we are unhappy. we like the growth. i think that’s the gist. if our memory is as terrible as it is at this age then you probably have a patchy idea of what i look like, sound like, think like etc. but, to paint a very honest picture, i am sitting on the floor in that jumper. yes, the blue one. we have hit a new record, it hasn’t been washed in two and a half weeks. i still won’t do it. the laundry room is on the ground floor and we have to walk past that scary security guard — we hate doing that. anyway, right now, writing this, i am on the floor of the place we are about to move out of, with nowhere to go still. are we safe btw? i am eating the crispy sweet chili chicken i decided to make as the last dinner here, and i have just discovered the secret ingredient (orange juice) works really well in it. i hope we continue to make this when we’re stressed. it’s a comforting food for us. it makes my mouth tingle and the sweetness doesn’t outweigh the chili. i cried making it btw. we do that a lot rn. cry. i cried four times today (a lot less than usual). maybe that’s better for you. i cry and it hurts. i feel sick when i do. i hate the sound i make. but, i cried because it felt good standing up. i cried because this has been the most i’ve been able to do for over a week. are you able to cry out loud now? the breeze felt nice through the broken window — and i hope they won’t take a deposit fee on me for it (since i only found out it was broken a day ago). well, i stood by the window with a cup of tea, i like tea. do you have that tea cabinet because i keep writing on lists and refuse to look up types on pinterest. too many choices too little money. i can’t remember the last time i actually laughed. are you better with that now? buy yourself something nice when you finish reading this. something that makes you smile. something expensive. do you still shy away from liking expensive things? the ones you save on instagram, feeling like you don’t deserve them. do you still care about instagram? i hope you do. you like taking pictures and changing, keep doing it. it’s 3am. do you still use a double chamomile to knock you out? i’m listening to mac and crying as i type. things are very shitty. i have sworn more in the past month than i have in our entire life so far. i don’t like sweairng so much. but the past year has been horrible, i don’t think I could’ve thought of a worse scenario. did we top dripping wet in the job centre with a new rock bottom? actually, i have a lot of questions. how are we with boundaries now? did we adopt a cat yet? do you wish she tried harder for you? how long does it take for us to stop feeling this fucking anxious every morning? does it get easier? the empty feeling before we sleep? are there less times we feel wrong now? wrong. i am currently trying to understand our trauma, i don’t like calling it that but that’s what it is. the really bad, the stuff that i haven’t talked about yet, have you? have you forgiven us? it’s okay if you can’t either. i hope you’re kinder now. to us. i hope we finally feel better about our legs. do you still pinch them? i hope you forgive yourself for people not liking you. i hope you feel less like you lost people and more like it wasn’t the right fit. i hope friendships are better. i hope you feel safe in them again. i hope being alone doesn’t always feel like this. there are weird things i want to ask, like have we tried fish again? did we go to paris? is it still weird seeing your full name on things? did that annoying wisdom tooth finally finish growing in? are hammocks actually comfy? did we finally get our nipples pierced? have you made a meringue? did you start drawing again? do you finally have a favourite book? what art piece did you decide on for that wall? if not, do you have the wall? did they apologise to you? if they didn’t, did you cave? do we still do that weird thing with our fingers? do more people leave? did you end up making a poetry book? what’s the first byline you got commissioned? did you finally get that date? are otters still your favourite animal? have you done something spontenous recently? does he still make us feel like that? have you figured out how cars work? you can drive now, right?
honestly, none of that really matters.
how are you today?
