“You got a letter.” Dave entered the living room and tossed it onto my lap. For Jessies’s eyes only! Was written on the front in large crooked print.
“Who’s it from?”
“How should I know” Dave said savagely.
“Sorry I was just asking.”
I opened the envelope and pulled out the paper inside.
We are writing letters to our future selves in class today. Hi! Whats up? Congrats on being 25! I have so many questions. What are we? Are we a balerina, or an archeologist like Lara Croft? Did we finally save enough for that trampoline? Are we married to Jeremy Sumpter? If not that’s okay I understand. Do we ever get a puppy? Whats his name? How tall are you? Mrs. Kirkman just said she wants me to write something meaningful so are you happy?
I thought to myself, “No, I’m not.” Just then Dave came up behind me and looked over my shoulder.
“God who wrote that?”
“I did.”I replied.
“Why?” he asked.
“It was a school assignment when I was nine.”
“Were you retarded as a nine year old, because that hand writing is awful.”
As he left the room still chortling about his own joke, I drafted and response to my younger self on the back of the letter. Never Grow Up. Then I scratched that out and instead wrote It’s never too late. Find the courage to start over. I rose from the couch went into my bedroom and started to pack.