December 6, 2021

Dear Future Me

By: Blake Edward Loria

Original Graphic by Blake Edward Loria

Dear Future Me,

Although I am writing to a version of myself, I am honestly not certain you are me. You may not look like me, behave like me, think like me. I am at a place of self-discovery; a time to find my true self. And who knows if future me—if you—are truly me? Will I live out my dreams of moving away and starting anew? Will I manage to move on from the trauma of my breakup? Will I form the group of friends I so desperately want? Of course, you know the answers to these questions, and I have to accept current me does not get to know. All this uncertainty eats up at me, but even though I do not get to know our fate, I hope the journey forward is worth it.

College is supposed to be the time in life where you mature and finally find your place in theworld. But not for me. Maturing is complicated, and to the past me who was forced to mature at a young age, it seemed as if there was little to be discovered about him and me. Sometimes, still, it is difficult to trudge on. As for finding my place in the world—it seems insurmountable to find such a thing. I am sure you are wise to my struggles, and I hope our past self forgives us for how we cope with his pain and how long it is taking current us to heal. He deserves for us to pull ourselves together and continue our journey of healing. I have made mistakes, but I am trying my best to find peace in the complicated time of college.

When I moved into the dorms and started classes at WT my life definitely shifted in a new direction, but instead of growing into a much more mature person, it sometimes feels as if I have only grown more lost in life. Even though it sometimes feels like I am walking with a blindfold on, I try my hardest to be aware of how my actions affect you. I am not sure I am happy with my major or the few organizations I chose to join. I do not know if I have found the right spot for myself at WT yet. College offers so many new faces to meet, opportunities to take and places to go, and as I traverse this time of my life, I often think of past us and how we will turn out beyond college.

I often reflect on the things that make me who I am and how they will change. I do not know if you will ever be okay with your body or how people see you. I do not imagine you feeling comfortable around people drinking alcohol or smoking. I cannot say you will overcome your depression or anxiety. But despite how long I have fought and how tired I am of fighting; I have relentlessly held onto the hope from past us. I know you will fight on as you always have. And while you are fighting, I hope you found the time to once again find joy in the activities I used to love.

When you look in the mirror, I hope you see the eye of a photographer rather than all your insecurities. While in the kitchen, I hope you continue learning new recipes instead of returning to comfort food. I wish for a future me who spends less time on his phone and more time focusing on his art and finding pride in his creations. I want you to be a plant dad, visit the gym regularly, read absurdly long novels. The amalgamation of my happy memories, trauma, love, heartbreak, highs, lows—all of it

makes me who I am. Despite the fact I do not know how you will look, act or behave, I know for sure I will remain a part of you. The lonely college freshman so lost in life will always exist within me, but someday I hope I will look back at this time in my life with a sense of relief knowing I took the right steps for us. Even against my feelings of melancholy and futility, I truly feel hope we will be happy in the future.

With the warmest regards,

Your former self

Original Graphic by Blake Edward Loria