Dear 50-Years-Old-Me,

I’ve been meaning to write to you for some time now. I’ve really been wondering about you lately. What do you look like? What do you do? Have you done all the things you thought you’d do when you grow up? Did you meet someone worth spending your whole life with? And if you have, does it feel like the fairy-tales you grew up listening to?

There’s so much that I have to say to you but every thought in my head just gets mixed up into a complete mess. I can picture you somehow, living in a small cottage on a sea side with a room which is filled with books. Or maybe in an apartment in a small town with your two babies that you always wanted to have.

I hope you have changed for the better and yet remained the same 25-years -old girl who is writing to you. I hope you still write, and I hope you remember the joy writing gave you. Do you remember that you wished you’d have a book published one day? Is that wish fulfilled yet? I hope you have fulfilled the dream of travelling around the world all alone, living with the natives, learning about the cultures and clicking a thousand pictures, like they do in the Tv shows. I hope you have reached all the milestones you had set for yourself. I hope you are happy with who you are.

Are you still in contact with your friends? I hope you remember they meant the world to you… I hope they still do. Remember all the parties, night-stays and all the fun? Have you still got the crappy sense of humour I have? Are you still the person who has a fear of being surrounded by darkness? Are you still the crazy person you were?

I hope you remember this blog, with all its stupid rants and childish poems. Remember how this was a getaway for you when you were super sad or super happy? Ooohh, do they already have time-machines? You might want to give me a sign if there is.

You know how songs bring an avalanche of memories, right? Do you listen to those songs I listen to now and feel nostalgic? I hope you remember me in excruciating details. One day you’ll be narrating about these days to your children,if you aren’t already doing so, like my mummy does to me.

If you read this, I want you to go to a library and borrow the books of Paulo Coelho and read it. Remember how you used to stay awake till 2 am, just to read it without mummy knowing? Remember how attached you grew to his stories? I hope Harry Potter is still a part of your life. Sounds childish, right?

I’m very curious about how you’re world if different from mine. Flying cars, talking to aliens, global warming, time travelling and unimaginable miracles, is it? Well, I’m not sure so much would have changed in 15 years, but who can say anything about the future?!

I don’t really know how to end this letter. It’s so chaotic but I think you’ll remember that I’m a muddle head. I just hope you’re a happy person and somebody who your almost-25-year-old-self will be proud of.