Listen to what I have to say.
Present-day you meets 10-years-ago you for coffee. Share with your younger self the most challenging thing, the most rewarding thing, and the most fun thing they have to look forward to. Daily prompt.
As I look at the thirteen-year-old before me, I hold the cup closer. Starbucks isn’t too crowded right now, just a few loners on laptops, a few youngsters ordering their fancy coffee.
Both me now and my younger self are sipping on a hot chocolate.
Younger Self (YS) looks at me behind the glasses. “I guess I’ll never like coffee?”
I shake my head. “No. That shit is always gross.”
YS looks surprised at the curse word. Says nothing.
“There’s a lot going to change,” I tell her, “I’m still figuring some things out. I can’t tell you how to have it all together when some days I feel like it’s all scattered a million miles away, too.”
“That sounds fantastic,” the sarcasm drips.
And then I begin to tell her about having a broken heart and cutting her arms. How even in the darkest days, she somehow will find a way to live, but if there’s any way I could truly relive it all, don’t repeat the same mistakes.
She stares, unblinking. “Tell me the rewarding part…the challenging part, no. That can’t be real.”
“Oh but it is. You will fall in love and be completely crushed.” I show her the scars I still bear. She shakes her head.
“I can’t believe I’ll ever do that.”
“Oh but you will.” I stare at her sadly. “The rewarding part- well, I think learning to live again. Your perspective will change, and you’ll actually understand that depression is real. That it isn’t something you can just tell someone to get over. You’ll find a new layer of compassion you didn’t know you had in you.”
I take a gulp of my now lukewarm hot chocolate. “The most fun, oh darling. So much I could tell you, but the thing still brings me the most fun is my Camaro. So when you find that blue beast, and you question whether or not to buy her, just do it. She’ll have problems, but she will be yours. And she’s always there for you. And the joy she will bring you- it will be like nothing else. Taking the tops off on hot summer days and just driving, driving all over with the sun and wind in your hair. That’s the most fun.”
She smiled. “I think that sounds like the best thing you’ve told me.”
I met her smile. “You’ll be okay, you really will. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to be weak, imperfect. Everything will work out, I promise. Don’t forget that.”
And here’s a few others blogger’s on this daily prompt: