I don’t know if I would’ve listened to me. I thought I had it pretty together. I was prideful and blind. But I mean, how could I possibly see clearly, up there in my treehouse?
But also, with all that has happened to me in this life, with all I know, I am still a bit of a hopeful romantic. I tend to think things have worked out for me just as they were meant. I don’t pretend to understand that, but I can still believe it.
As I take time to reflect, I start thinking of something I’d say, but then that could change and unravel so many other things…even if it didn’t cause a full-on butterfly effect, the whole trajectory of my life might change.
Most likely, if I were to somehow get the opportunity for some time with teenage me, I wouldn’t give me any advice. I don’t think I’d even let him meet this older version of himself. I think maybe I’d just write him a note to let him know he’s loved, and he’s gonna be alright.
That’s what I’m still learning to tell myself.