Dear Me,
I want you to remember this part of your life. Remember that you're working a shit job that will get you absolutely nowhere. Remember that everyone you know has graduated from college and you're still barely a sophomore. Remember the constant rejection letters from agents, the fact that you still live with your parents like some horrendous cliché.
Remember your fear of affection and how you don't think you'll ever find love. Remember how it feels to be an outsider in a town you've lived your whole life. Remember what it's like to feel defeated.
Remember this time, and these moments.
Most importantly, remember that you conquered them. Remember that you showed them all.
I don't know who you are or what you're doing or who you're loving, but I know that you figured it out. I know because you're working so damn hard to figure it out right now.
And right now is fucking hard. It blows like a two-dollar whore. You know, too much teeth. But I know that we've made it. Because you're better than I am. You've come farther.
And you'll only go farther.
Love,
Yourself
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