Day 23: A letter to someone, anyone
It’s a high school cliché to do this but why not? I’ve decided to write a letter to my future self seeing as I’m young and full of ideas and dreams that will likely fall to the wayside when life gets in the way.
Dear Future Self,
I swear if you turned into a square I will be so pissed.
Remember when things were much simpler? Back in the day in elementary school when you chose your friends based on whether they liked NSYNC or The Backstreet Boys? When you didn’t have to worry about bills? When you dreamed of traveling the world and taking enough pictures to fill a room’s worth of photo albums? Or when you swore to be the eccentric aunt who taught her nephew how to draw and cling to imagination because at the end of the day that’s one of the few things that we will always have.
Taken right after I had the dark teal peek-a-boo highlights put in.
Hopefully, you didn’t forget. I do hope you’ve traveled the world and filled each of the 22 slots in your memory card carrying case. I hope you choose friends based on whether they watch Game of Thrones or The Walking Dead. I hope you don’t worry about bills because you always pay them in a timely manner rather than at the last second. Finally, I hope Austin receives a scholarship to an art school because his talent and passion is so great.
Mostly, I hope you’re happy. Maybe living somewhere you’d never thought you’d visit or working for a magazine you’d thought was out of reach. Maybe there’s a guy, maybe there isn’t. But there better not be any cats; I forbid you. Rescue a dog.
Consider this a wake-up call from the ghost of your former self. The person looking through the window during a thunderstorm. The dreamer whose only surgery has been wisdom teeth removal. The student who hates partying and only drinks when curled up in front of her Macbook. The aunt who declares Wednesday a no-go for working because it’s the day she spends with her little man. The artist whose hair is black with dark teal peek-a-boo highlights. The Goth who goes to the grocery store looking like a Tim Burton character because she loves to turn the J.C. Penny loving housewife’s heads. And lastly, the writer who types for life.
Stay weird,
2015 Emily J Ridener
P.S. Seriously, if you have a cat there’s no hope for my future.
ejridener 