Dear fifteen year old self,
I know you have never met me.
And you never will, for I took over...
Grew from your essence.
But I just wanted to let you know a few things.
See that face of yours? The one you cry in front of in the mirror? You're beautiful. You're changing from a cute awkward little kid into a strong wonderful, inspiringly beautiful woman. Trust nature. Wipe your tears, and believe that it's okay. You're 15. Relax. You're pretty. Those big brown eyes will get you anything you wish for. Trust me. I know.
Next, see that boy? The cute one who knows how to talk a little bit too smoothly... Who's a little bit too cheeky.... There's no point in me telling you to stay away because we both know that doesn't work. We are the same person after all... Just be careful...... And whatever you do, DO NOT sleep with him. You're too young. You're gonna have your first kiss, and he's gonna make you feel like you're flying and falling and being caught all at the one time.... But you're not. You're going to kiss people 1000 times better than that, you'll realise it was sloppy and kind of a waste of eight months.
But the heartbreak. When he leaves you for your best friend.. When you're left without anyone beside you. That will honestly almost **** you. But you'll be okay. The fact that you feel this way makes you become the strong beautiful woman you are today. You can get through it, all of it, even the **** that's not about the guy. The **** that is going on inside your head, inside your home.... You'll survive. And you'll write.
One last thing, I'm sure I'm missing a few things, maybe I'll realise them when I'm a little bit older...... But that musical talent you've got, it's there.... It's in your ears... And possibly your voice. That's a grey area at the moment. You're going to find your way. And musicians should come with warning signs..... danger sheer drop ahead like at the end of the road in a cartoon where the path turns into a cliff....... Because you'll fall, when you're around my age. And they are very good pretenders. Be careful sweetheart.
It's never too late.
You're growing up so beautifully.
And try not to be too sad........
18 year old you...
I think I want to create a series of these kinds of letters.....