Dear 2020,

     I’m really sorry. I don’t totally remember what I said in the last letter, but I know it was ridiculous. No one is born to die. The future can always change.
     The idea of being “born to die” is an idea from Dragonlance, Dragons of the summer flame. One of the characters asks another if his brothers, who had recently died in an epic battle, were born to die. The reader can easily see how this would be because their deaths help the story move along the way it should. And the reader sees how impossible it is that the living brother is the only survivor of the battle from his side.
     But what I said is ridiculous. I’m sorry. I can’t believe I wrote something so ridiculous in a letter to you.
     I had a good time today. Better than usual. But there was still that aura around me, that dark cloud that darkens everything. If I had had a day like this in the Before Times, before everything went spiraling downward, I probably would’ve had more fun than I did today. I’m sorry. I sound so ungrateful. But I’m not. I really enjoyed myself.
     Last week the doctor asked me if I was still thinking of self-harm. I said no. I guess I panicked because the doctor and my mother were right there, but I still think that was a lie. I don’t often take actions for my thoughts (well, sometimes I do. A few days ago I admittedly tore through my drawers in my bathroom, looking for a razor or razor head. I don’t even want to really think about what I might have done if I had found one) but I have certainly been thinking about self-harm. I think about it every day. Sometimes when I am setting my goals for myself, I will think, you have to eat less. If you don’t stop eating, I swear I’ll cut you. Yes. I know it's kind of stupid that I would talk to myself like that. But when the doctor or the counselor asks if I’ve been thinking about self-harm again, it is always incredibly hard to answer them truthfully. It is awkward and hard to explain the way I think to adults, and giving off the wrong impression in this kind of situation can be a really big deal. Like how I gave off the impression that thinking about my past didn’t bother me to my mother. She once asked me about the Harm Times in public. I was stunned, appalled, mortified, and paralyzed. It is extremely hard for me to talk to others about these things.
      But I like talking to you. Because you are a better me. A wiser me. In a strange way, I guess I look up to you. Which is good, I guess, because there really isn’t anyone else that I can look up to.
     For someone reason, for about an hour my face has felt really flushed. Like I’m blushing, or something. But I’m not, and I haven’t been doing anything except playing games.
     I think to myself sometimes. I think I am such a messed-up person, aren’t I? I probably am.
     Lately, I’ve been really tired. I think it’s just from life. It’s also a symptom, so maybe that's it. I also have been forgetting things a lot. Like how I think I’ve talked about being tired of you before, and said that it wasn’t really from staying up late, but I don’t remember.
     Sigh


     Hey. You know why I start every letter by saying that you might not exist; that in 2020 I might be dead? It’s not because of pessimism. It's not because I believe some accident will occur or I will be murdered. The accident has already, occurred. That is me. I say the things about you not existing because I can’t see the future, especially not like I used to. I used to be able to plan out every little thing about my future. Now I don’t even know what I want to be when I grow up. I can’t see very far into my future, because I genuinely believe that before I am very old I will simply **** myself, and all of this will be over. I am so certain of this that when people ask me about my future I think about how I know I will die soon, and simply tell them whatever comes to mind. I am so certain that I will die soon that sometimes I feel like I should live my life to the fullest as if I have no control over my own suicide. I am so certain of my death being soon that sometimes I used to feel excited as if it were coming soon. I am so weird. By the way, there is no ‘living your life to the fullest’ for me. There is nothing I want to do. Except maybe feel happy, loved, genuine. But blasting happy, nostalgic tunes can only do so much.
      I really, really cannot see myself very far into the future from now. I can only imagine myself being a recluse. Honestly, if things continue like this and I am still alive, I really cannot see myself in college. I’m such a mess. I’m sorry for telling you all this. This is the kind of useless **** I keep telling myself I need to keep inside.
     sigh
              Sincerely,
                              Hol­li