An Open Letter to the Future Me

04 November 2012 / 3:45  P.M.

Dear Abbie,

I wonder where you are right now, and what you're doing. Are you still living in the Middle East? Have you settled in the Philippines? I'm at the office as I type this letter. You know, one of those gloomy days you had back in the day. Sitting on your ass, staring blankly at almost anything you set your eyes on. The  weather looks beautiful too, by the way - which is very rare, if  you remember. Its windy, and you can see the trees swaying from side to side, and the sky is a sad gray. Kind of like you today.

I don't know how to explain to you how different things feel for you right now. Or is that something you don't want to remember anymore? Are you smiling looking back at these days, or have you thrown them away, stored in a box marked "Eternal Sunshine Material" somewhere in your head?

I wonder how you're feeling right now, reading this. Looking back on the day you thought of writing it. All the while I can't even tell myself if I was wishing you are in a better place than this Abbie, I don't even know what "better" is anymore. You have no idea how lost I am. Or do you? Maybe you do. Maybe you're laughing at me right now. I hope you're not...or I don't know.

Have you figured it all out already, Abbie? Are you doing what you want to with your life, are you where you want to be? You've been merely just existing these days, Abbie. You've  done things that killed you and brought you back to life at the same damn time and you're so proud of it, of finally attaining bliss. Do you still feel the same way about those things, Abbie? Or has it changed? 

Will it ever get better? Tell me it will. Right now you know what your heart wanted, your brain just won't entertain the thought because its heartbreakingly beautiful...but also improbable. And  right now, you hate yourself for it. Do you still hate yourself for the same reason? Or has that changed, too?

Seriously, I hope you could give me something. Anything from the assurance, a promise, will I like where I'm going? What's my tomorrow going to be like, Abbie? Will I go around in circles for awhile? Stay in heaven for a day or two in a month and get bitchslapped by reality over and over for the rest? Is it worth it like I believed it was? 

Have I just been making it all up in my head, Abbie? TELL ME because its driving me crazy. Its the reason why I can't sleep at night. 

Tell me my sadness has not gotten to me, has not swallowed me whole? Tell me it won't change me, what I believe in, and my ideals. Tell me that I'm wrong, that the things I thought existed, actually does. And that there is hope. 

And that I'm not stupid to still hope.

Please, Abbie.