Dear Future Self,
Do you remember that box we used to keep? It was a hollowed out book. The cover was pink, decorated with glitter and an image of the Eiffel Tower. Can you recall how we looked at the tower as if it were some magical structure? We imagined that instead of metal, it was built of thick memories and finessed with floaty possibilities.
Well, the page-less outline of a book is currently filled with drawings and poetry on loose-leaf papers. It is the keeper of our recollections and secret yearnings. It guards our emotions from prying eyes. It serves as the dumping site for regret and an incubator for goals.
We carry the importance of it with us. It is the one place we can release all of our burdens. That is why we love to feel its weight; it translates into realness. That hollow box lets us recognize difficult things without being consumed by them. Thus, it is heavy upon our back, but the pressure is welcome.
Sometimes, we consider emptying the box of its contents, and using it to house strange odds and weird ends, but have never been enthused enough to do it. Without that box, we would be burdened by every thought from the past, constantly repeating them to make them seem less surreal.
So, I wonder if you still keep the pink, glittery, hollowed out book. Have you found a new way to release your heavy thoughts, or have you kept tradition? I'm not sure what I want the answer to be. Maybe it's on the top shelf of your closet, full to the brim and overflowing with years of our life. Is it better to keep sentiment in tradition; would it be more beneficial to learn not to hoard emotions?
Whatever the case, I will put this letter in the box. If we read it twenty or fifty years from now, I hope we still see the magic in the tower. I also hope that our experiences will have added new understanding to the things we can't comprehend now.








With Much Love and Adoration,








Halle