Letter To My Younger Self Book Novels & Stories

That the smaller practice and the smaller house and the slower pace were not losses but corrections. I sealed the letter and addressed it and mailed it. Then I went to pick Luke up from the train station because he was home for a long weekend and we were going to walk the river path and look at his footbridge and have dinner. I did not expect a reply. I had not written it to receive one. I had written it because some truths needed to exist in the world on paper rather than only in your own head where they were too easy to manage and minimize. The letter exists now.

If fate is real, it won’t need my fear to survive. And if it isn’t, then what we had was still real enough. I closed the journal slowly. I pressed it to my chest. “I don’t need to send these,” I told myself. “They’re not for them.” I stood and walked to the window. “They’re for the version of me that stayed silent.” Later, I video-called my best friend. “You look lighter,” she said immediately. “I wrote letters,” I replied. “And sent them?” “No.” She smiled knowingly. “Then they worked.”

"I was young and na?ve, trusting the wrong people, walking down the wrong path. But now, with this new opportunity, I won’t make the same mistakes again. I’m determined to succeed and make the most of this second chance." The professor smiled, patting me on the shoulder. "That's great to hear." "I was worried, at first. But seeing your determination now, I have nothing to worry about. The world is yours, young ones!" No matter how tough life got, it could never be worse than in my past life. At least now, my grandmother was still alive. And I wasn’t wasting my life for two people who didn’t deserve it. For the next few days, I immersed myself in my studies, blocking out all distractions.

"I know you misunderstood me. But what happened because of that misunderstanding—it was real." "What's done is done. You can't undo it. The scars in each person's memory don't fade." "That day in Switzerland was so cold that it finally let me let go of the past." "Zane was the one who helped me move on." "Let's just move forward. Nico, Arlo, Rhett." "We had a beautiful childhood. But from now on, I'm going the way I chose. The way I'm looking forward to." "And I hope—the Nico, Arlo, and Rhett from those childhood days—can wish me well."

"Your Highness has a letter from that person." In a lavish palace, a young man lay drinking. Next to them are the maidservants. When the other person finished speaking, he waited for the young man to answer. "You guys get out." The other lazily waved his hand to make them leave quickly, the other quickly delivered the letter to this crown prince. At first, my fangs were lazy to lie down and read, then they showed serious expressions. The smile on his face made the postman shiver.

It is the first day of school after I didn’t shift in front of the entire pack. Kayla bounces back out of the school and grabs me by the arm. “Come on,” she says as she cheerfully pulls me by the arm. “Nothing will change, I promise you.” My sixteen-year-old self isn’t so sure. I watch as my younger self stands rigid outside of the school. My younger self’s face is pale and she looks like she will be sick. “I think I am going to be sick,” my younger self says quietly. “I think I am going to go home.”

“You’re amazing. I’m not like you. I never will be, even when I’m your age.” She’s looking at me with such wonder, I can’t help feeling touched, even though she doesn’t have to behave as though I’m such a dinosaur. I mean, I’m only thirty-three, not a hundred. “Of course you will,” I say confidently. “You know, I was like you once. I was quite timid. I had no idea what I would do in life or what my potential was. I was an eighteen-year-old kid, floundering around.” I can feel my All-Purpose Motivational Speech coming on. Do I have time to give it? I glance at my watch. Just about. The short version. “I was lost. Exactly like you feel now. But then I went on my gap year.”

She ripped the white envelope and unfolded the more than a decade-old letter. She cleared her throat and began reading. ~Dear Future Self, It's me your younger, less experienced version. I hope we're doing great in whatever we’ve ended up in. I’ve got a few things to ask, so buckle up. First, do we still binge-watch anime? Do we still cry when we rewatch Lelouch Lamperouge's death in Code Geass or have we grown into a refined lady who only watches documentaries on how to save the world? Mmm…

One of the first cracks in our foundation. My hands shake as I tear it open. ‘My Dearest Hunter,’ ‘It's your birthday, and you're three thousand miles away closing some deal that couldn't wait another day. I know I should be angry, but instead I'm sitting in our empty apartment writing you a letter I will probably never send.’ ‘I've been thinking about us lately. About the woman I was when we met and the woman I'm becoming now. ‘ ‘I used to be brave, remember? I used to speak up for myself, dream big dreams, believe I could conquer the world.’

There's a small graze on his knuckles from the warehouse, the concrete wall when we went in low. I noticed it at the time and filed it. I reach across and take his hand and look at it, and he lets me. "It's nothing," he says. "I know," I say. I press my thumb to the graze, lightly, and let go. He looks at me. "I need to do something," he says. "Can I tell you what it is before I do it so you don't think I've lost my mind." "Tell me." "I want to write a letter. To myself. When I was eight." He pauses.