To My Future Self

Dear future me.

It’s almost midnight. My desk is so messy, and I can’t sleep for the life of me.
I’m best at overthinking when the moon is shining through my window. I can’t help but think about everything I’m missing out on because I’m just not good enough.
A kid at school called me ugly and disgusting today. Mom said it wasn’t true, but I honestly don’t know if she just had to say that because I’m her daughter. I mean, she has to, right? I don’t think I’m pretty. The boys at school never look at me and whenever one of them actually talks to me, they are always asking if I will hook them up with my best friends.

When no one is listening, I dream little secret dreams about all kinds of random stuff. All the adventures I’m not brave enough to go on.

Sometimes I wish I could talk to you just to ask you how things are going for us. Are we pursuing singing? If so, what does the microphone feel like? Are we hitting all the high notes only my hairbrush hears, whenever the house is empty? Are people cheering? What does it feel like to hear the clapping from up there?
Are you loved? Is there someone you come home to? Just to make your soul feel at peace? Is he hugging you like dad always does? Does he kiss you like movies? Is he looking at you with the same pride and love mom has in her eyes whenever she looks at me?

Life can be difficult sometimes and, on some days, I don’t even get out of bed, no matter how hard I try.
Looking in the mirror is painful sometimes. I don’t like my hair. It’s so frizzy all the time. I don’t like my eyes, they’re always so puffy. My shoulders have a weird shape, and my mouth never says the things my mind wants it to. Will I ever feel beautiful? When will I finally be pretty? Will I ever be at all?

I don’t want to feel so insecure anymore. I’m so tired of being anxious all the time. With a heart full of hope, my fingers are crossed for you to be stronger. Less full of doubt and fear.
If we ever make it, I’ll need you to let me know, because I’m slowly losing hope. My dreams seem to be slipping away a little more each day and my wishes seem so far from coming true that it physically hurts.
I’ve never seen a wishing star. I haven’t seen much in this life so far.

I’m laying all my dreams in your hands. Please make them come true, so I can finally be who I want to be.

Take care of my heart.

Sincerely,
Imperfect you