Dear future me...
I hope things are going well.
And I'm feeling pretty anxious,
you could probably tell.
Something in my writing,
in the way that I sound.
How I wanna be running,
but I stay glued to the ground.
I'm worried about you.
Or I guess about me.
Because there's all of these options
and I don't know which one to be.
And that's just like us.
Caught between two ambitious extremes.
Why have one ?
When you can have two life changing dreams.
I'm not the first version to say that.
Younger us was like that too.
She learned to believe in herself,
even if nobody else would.
And people got mad,
but her faith in me withstood.
She's probably writing to me right now.
"Does our life gets any better?"
And just like you'll do with me,
I won't respond to her letter.
If I tell her the future,
she won't understand the past.
She'll wish her life away,
wanting for the time to past fast.
I don't want that for her.
Just like you don't want that for me.
And I know that my answers
are something to feel, but not yet see.
So maybe I'm worried.
I'm pretty damn scared.
Because I think that it's time to become you.
And I might just be prepared.
