Twenty* years from now, you'll be making porridge for your husband and two kids. If I told you then, would you have believed me?
Ten years from now, you'll be taking your daughter to her first day of school. If I told you then, would you have believed me?
Five years from now, you'll be buying your first house with your second husband. If I told you then, would you have believed me?
One year from now, you'll be on a date with that man from the office who makes you smile. If I told you then, would you have believed me?
The answer is probably not. You wouldn't have looked forward and seen these things. You couldn't have pushed past the fog and gazed upon the light. But you will. And so before you give up, I need you to believe me.
For my mother, who almost gave up, but didn't, and now stands in the kitchen making my breakfast.