Dear past me,
I found a suggestion to write to our future self.
And, after much thought and deliberation, I found myself unable to thinks of us further than today.
Although, the past you and present me converge today, we both understand, that even now, our future is uncertain. And, it's all down to present me.

So, dear possible future,
there's a few things I know:

I know the sky is blue; sometimes.
The day before today was yesterday and after will be tomorrow. But yesterday is now certain. Written down on a rock. It is now a fixed point of life.
But tomorrow may not come. The sun not rise nor the moon fall.

Tomorrow is the great perhaps.
Sleeping; waiting to be awaken.
We are Schrodinger's cat. Both alive and dead inside the box of tomorrow.

That even if I can't see myself further than today;
here's to the things written and unwritten,
to the you before and the me after.
Here's to the great perhaps and maybe of tomorrow,
To the us who know,
and the uncertainty of now.
That to whatever yesterday decided,
tomorrow might forgive us.
Here's to the fine line between the past and future,
that it might meet our present and if not-
that it will remember us even if just today.

Here's to us,
anywhere in time.