Time capsule email
This is the strangest thing, but great as well. Futureme.org
You write a letter to yourself about your life now, and can ask your future self how your life turned out. I wrote myself one and I forgot already what date I sent it to, lol. You can send yourself future birthday wishes!
I might write myself another. I kind of like this site.
You can also view other peoples' submissions. Some are lame, some are twisted, and others are juicy and intense, like this one:
Dear FutureMe,
It’s almost Christmas, 2005 and, of course, I’m haunted the ghosts of Christmas’ past and obsessing about an unknowable future and a ragged past. My present is grim - in a dead, lifeless, loveless and sexless marriage and a very stressful limbo because my hopes and plans for a future with the man I’ve loved for so many years are on indefinite hold.
The ghosts from the past continue to haunt me, old pain from childhood abuse and being worn down from the constant verbal abuse from my husband.
The question for my future me is simple … If I am finally with my lover, is it working the way we hoped and planned? Are we anywhere near as compatible as we think we will be? And, OHMIGAWD, after 15 years of NO sex at all, what’s it like to finally be able to make love to and be made love to?
Have we both been able to outrun and get beyond our fears, our past abuses, get past all of that to find a sane and loving place for ourselves? Have we found our way back to each other? Does our fairy tale have a happily ever after ending?
Have Drake and Nell survived? How about Andrew and Beth? They're so real to us now, I wonder how they will have evolved in the next two years.
If we’re not together - why not? Is Penny still alive? Did our love wink out, like a hot burning candle? Or, worse, far worse, did it finally die from a lack of face to face, belly to belly, open robe hugs? We've held so tightly to each other for so many years, its simply not possible for our hopes and dreams and love to die.
I don’t want to think of other possible reasons - his death or my own, for example. And, if we’re not together, did we finally give in the inexorable pull of that Paris of the Midwest, Wichita?
As I write this, we’re separated by 33 years and a couple of galaxies. My heartfelt hope is that on the day I open this email, I'm looking out over that lake, that Bruce is reading over my shoulder (or nibbling on my neck ...) and that I can turn to kiss him and be kissed in return.
Don't forget to love yourself... You're worth it. You're one of a kind, an endangered species.
~~ Past You
Here's another "cute" one:
Dear FutureMe,
Life is pretty amazing, isn't it? I guess you're about 40 by now, and yet you're able to sit here communicating with your seventeen-year-old self. As I think of the sheer impossibility of this situation I get shivers in my toes and my eyes go wide with wonder. I guess you're old enough to be my mother.
Well, I don't usually pick out a date to send my letter to before I write it, and now I'm getting all shy because I know you're 23 years older than me, 23 years brighter, wiser, happier. Somehow I can't help but feel a little intimidated by your age. Silly that.
Maybe if I scribble these words a bit, make a few mistakes, or just keep typing away when usually I would stop, maybe then I'll get more comfortable knowing you're reading this. I want to write you a fantastic letter!
I guess what I really wanted to tell you was that being 40 years old means you're half way to your life expectancy. Are you half way to heaven yet? Half way to living out *all* your dreams?
Blah.
I wish I could write you some life-changing epiphanies or some great advice or something, but truth is, I'm just a teenager and while I've got all the happiness in the world I don't know the secrets how to get happiness. I just kind of sprung upon me and I refused to let go. I don't know how things worked out to be like this, but I don't think it happened by luck or by chance.
Oh well, I guess I'll just send this and be done with it. I'll send something more coherent when I get used to the idea that... (how do I say this?)... well, you're old and I'm not. Is forty even that old?
Nah, you're half started, my dear, my love, my bright spark of future. Keep the Happy flowing.
Love love & yours forever,
Your seventeen-year-old self.
xx
You write a letter to yourself about your life now, and can ask your future self how your life turned out. I wrote myself one and I forgot already what date I sent it to, lol. You can send yourself future birthday wishes!
I might write myself another. I kind of like this site.
You can also view other peoples' submissions. Some are lame, some are twisted, and others are juicy and intense, like this one:
Dear FutureMe,
It’s almost Christmas, 2005 and, of course, I’m haunted the ghosts of Christmas’ past and obsessing about an unknowable future and a ragged past. My present is grim - in a dead, lifeless, loveless and sexless marriage and a very stressful limbo because my hopes and plans for a future with the man I’ve loved for so many years are on indefinite hold.
The ghosts from the past continue to haunt me, old pain from childhood abuse and being worn down from the constant verbal abuse from my husband.
The question for my future me is simple … If I am finally with my lover, is it working the way we hoped and planned? Are we anywhere near as compatible as we think we will be? And, OHMIGAWD, after 15 years of NO sex at all, what’s it like to finally be able to make love to and be made love to?
Have we both been able to outrun and get beyond our fears, our past abuses, get past all of that to find a sane and loving place for ourselves? Have we found our way back to each other? Does our fairy tale have a happily ever after ending?
Have Drake and Nell survived? How about Andrew and Beth? They're so real to us now, I wonder how they will have evolved in the next two years.
If we’re not together - why not? Is Penny still alive? Did our love wink out, like a hot burning candle? Or, worse, far worse, did it finally die from a lack of face to face, belly to belly, open robe hugs? We've held so tightly to each other for so many years, its simply not possible for our hopes and dreams and love to die.
I don’t want to think of other possible reasons - his death or my own, for example. And, if we’re not together, did we finally give in the inexorable pull of that Paris of the Midwest, Wichita?
As I write this, we’re separated by 33 years and a couple of galaxies. My heartfelt hope is that on the day I open this email, I'm looking out over that lake, that Bruce is reading over my shoulder (or nibbling on my neck ...) and that I can turn to kiss him and be kissed in return.
Don't forget to love yourself... You're worth it. You're one of a kind, an endangered species.
~~ Past You
Here's another "cute" one:
Dear FutureMe,
Life is pretty amazing, isn't it? I guess you're about 40 by now, and yet you're able to sit here communicating with your seventeen-year-old self. As I think of the sheer impossibility of this situation I get shivers in my toes and my eyes go wide with wonder. I guess you're old enough to be my mother.
Well, I don't usually pick out a date to send my letter to before I write it, and now I'm getting all shy because I know you're 23 years older than me, 23 years brighter, wiser, happier. Somehow I can't help but feel a little intimidated by your age. Silly that.
Maybe if I scribble these words a bit, make a few mistakes, or just keep typing away when usually I would stop, maybe then I'll get more comfortable knowing you're reading this. I want to write you a fantastic letter!
I guess what I really wanted to tell you was that being 40 years old means you're half way to your life expectancy. Are you half way to heaven yet? Half way to living out *all* your dreams?
Blah.
I wish I could write you some life-changing epiphanies or some great advice or something, but truth is, I'm just a teenager and while I've got all the happiness in the world I don't know the secrets how to get happiness. I just kind of sprung upon me and I refused to let go. I don't know how things worked out to be like this, but I don't think it happened by luck or by chance.
Oh well, I guess I'll just send this and be done with it. I'll send something more coherent when I get used to the idea that... (how do I say this?)... well, you're old and I'm not. Is forty even that old?
Nah, you're half started, my dear, my love, my bright spark of future. Keep the Happy flowing.
Love love & yours forever,
Your seventeen-year-old self.
xx