hello to our damaged younger selves. we wish we could go back and save you, protect you from what awaits you, but we can’t.
we send these letters to you and ourselves, a feeble attempt to free us of the nostalgia staining our lives. nostalgia tinged with abuse, tinged with the fractured personalities we wish to leave behind.
dear younger selves, perhaps in some other time you are the children you deserved to be. perhaps in some other time you become the adults you actually could be, fully actualizing and achieving, while we linger and languish in futile lamentation.
