Dear Younger Me,
From the vantage point of years, I look back at you, a figure etched against the backdrop of yesteryears. I see your dreams, aspirations, the twinkle in your eyes that says, "We're going to conquer the world."
I hope I've made you proud. Maybe not with grand, sweeping victories, but with small, everyday triumphs. Triumphs that don't make headlines, but write a resilient story. Our story. I've fought battles, weathered storms, always remembering the fire you kindled in my heart.
Have I amassed a fortune? No, but I've collected a wealth of experiences, friendships, and lessons that no treasure chest could hold. I've loved, lost, and loved again, a testament to the enduring capacity of our heart. I hope you see the value in these intangible victories, the beauty of these unseen trophies.
I'm working tirelessly, my younger self, towards the dreams you painted on our canvas of hope. The strokes may not be as swift or as sure as we had hoped, but every day I strive, every night I plan, inching closer to those dreams. It's like navigating a vast ocean with a compass of our shared aspirations. The destination might seem distant, but I promise you, we'll reach there.
And when that day comes, when we finally seize our dreams, it will be a salute to your faith, your optimism. I just hope it won't be too late. I hope the echoes of your joyous laughter will still reverberate in our hearts, the memory of your hopeful gaze still reflected in our mirror.
Until then, I carry your dreams like a sacred torch, passing through the corridors of time, never allowing its flame to falter. You inspire me, little one, in ways you may never know. Your innocence, your courage, your dreams—they are the wind beneath my wings, the compass guiding my journey.
From your future, with love and promise,
Your Older Self
0 Comments