A letter to the Melody from the end of the last decade, at age thirteen/fourteen.
Dear Younger Me,
Hello. This is Older You, writing to you from the future. It is March 2016. I've been thinking about you a lot lately and kind of just wanted to tell you some news that might be pleasing to you.
First, however, I must confess to not being in the exact spot in life that you thought I would be at this point in time. But I must also confess to being completely okay with that. And it's not that I've changed, because in essentials, I believe I am very much what I ever was. (...hang on for about a year and then you'll know that that's a tweaked quote from the best novel in the universe.)
But things have shifted. Instead of graduating with a BA in Elementary Education this May, I am actually only now really getting into this college thing. Yeah, yeah, I know. But I've done cool things! I promise! And I work in a library, like you've always wanted to, if that's any comfort. (Also it's great. Totally recommend it. And volunteering at the library is a great way to get started. Good choice. Yes. Do it.)