talking stage- a sokeefe human au

chapter infinity and one: dear past self

Dear past self,

I'm having trouble writing this right now. This was- er, is a hard time for you- er, us, and it's weird revisiting it. To tell you the truth, he's not coming back. 

It's like a story, almost. We had all this build up; we were cute, we flirted, you liked me, I like you, all of this... something, for a whole lot of nothing.

I guess the author said; 'the frig to payoff'.

But, there is good in everything. I suppose learned from it.

You can't always put everything into someone. Because then you'll be more upset when they're gone.

You can't lie to people. Because it hurts more when you find out the truth.

You can't tell people to do things for you. You have to do it yourself, because no matter how much pain it takes to lift up your phone and dial that one number, it comes better from you.

And no matter how much it torments you, it'll always torment me more. 

I'm sorry, I got carried away. Here's some good news, I know you like that! Senior year is going to bite your butt, but... college is great! We made it to Princeton, and I'm getting my degree in political science and literature in a few days! I have a job at the library, which I get paid a surprising amount for, and I'm living my best life with Biana, who is doing online fashion design for a college in France! The house is by a lake, and we got a dog named Iggy! So, live doesn't suck after all.

Sophie, you can't get stuck on this, like I did (okay, we are the same person and I can't time travel like they do in 'Back to the Future' (which you should really watch, the fourth one's out now) but I'm giving this advice to you regardless, because present me needs it). 

You have to live your life, and get out there. Don't be afraid because of one heartbreak. Just be cautious. You're an adult now, so no one can take anyone away from you but themselves. 

You are an amazing girl, my friend, and you can do great things. Just don't let this control you. 

Love, 

future you.

I sigh, and lean back in my chair, dropping my pen and shutting off the nightlight. "I should get to bed now," I glance at the clock, which reads 2:54. I stand up, causing the wooden chair to slide across the floor, making a slight grinding noise. I sigh again, my footsteps soft against the hardwood, the door clicking as I shut it closed. My letter, left in the moonlight.