Letter To My Future Self

Dear you,1

I'm sure you don't need to be reminded of your past hardships. They're hard to forget, permanently emblazoned in your mind's eye. I just don't want you to forget where you're from and your struggle to escape.2

Their fingerprints will always make themselves known, seared into your memory, if not your flesh. I'm sure you can recall the feeling of their hungry hands as well as I can now. You were strong enough to escape their villainous grasp. You are free and hopefully remain that way. Don't ever let another man clip your wings or strangle your dreams. You deserve so much more.3

I am sure you can see those bright city lights glimmering from your bedroom window, shimmering across this page. You can hear the traffic rumbling outside your door. You're probably growing wearing of the city life's hustle and bustle.4

Knowing you, you're already plotting your next move. A maternal move, I imagine. If you haven't already had children, I know you want them. I know that more than anything you desire to hold them in your arms, rock the to sleep. Do you remember dreaming about the little ones? A curly-haired little girl that giggled and danced? I've just begun dreaming of a little boy, only a few months old, cling to me. So real it seemed.5

And their father? Is there an amazing man sprawled on the bed beside you sleeping peacefully?6

Wishing you the best,7

Me