Dear older me,

If you are reading this, congratulations on enduring this long. I am on the verge of graduating and confronting the so-called "real world," whatever that entails. Here are my aspirations for the future.

I fervently hope you marry him. Seriously, do not botch this; he is the most wonderful thing that ever happened to you. Recall our secret pact with God? The phrase your future husband will utter, so you know he is the one? I trust it materialized. I must admit, I am terrified of love. The prospect of opening my heart to someone and risking the pain of losing them is daunting. Sometimes, I fear that I will never find that kind of profound connection and that I am destined to remain solitary. I hope you proved me wrong.

I hope you have a child. Currently, I am disinclined towards children, but perhaps my perspective will evolve. Should you have children, I hope you are a commendable mother. You'll be great if you're even half as good as your mom. I hope you've worked on yourself and grown up. You hide a lot from the world, are insecure, and compare yourself to others. You choose the safe path too often. Don't run from the hard work.

I hope you tell your parents you love them more often. They don't know how much they mean to you, and that's a shame. I hope you live closer to family. Your mother was deeply saddened when you accepted that position in New York despite her cheerful facade. I hope you have strengthened your bond with your sisters. Sibling affection is irreplaceable, but competitiveness has occasionally impeded it. Embrace and learn from him. I hope you are engaged in work that feels meaningful. I am uncertain what that entails, but perhaps it means finding joy in simple moments like an ordinary Thursday. I hope your dear friends are in good health and happy. Even if that is improbable, I hope they know how much you cherish them. Finally, I hope you've had some fun along the way.

That's all for now. Farewell.