Dear Future Self,
I’m sorry to impinge
On whatever it is your doing.
I know it’s not helpful
To communicate with me
But I so desperately needed to talk.
I have some questions
Of which Past Self is of no use.
(He is, if I am being candid,
Driving me to distraction!)
Are people right when they kindly state
Things will get easier?
When will the change emerge
And I am born anew
Into a new life with less sadness,
More joy?
What is the point of all of this
Which so painfully placates?
Where are you?
Can I have directions?
Can I visit, just for a day?
I must apologise for the stress,
It must have lost you some friends.
I think it is for the best
But I have been wrong before,
As Past Self continues to remind me,
What a bore.
I keep telling him to quieten down
And to hold onto her.
He is so lucky to have her
And to still be with her vibrancy.
I am not worth his time
In light of her presence.
He does not fully understand.
You may have someone too.
I hope so.
I should not disturb you
For I probably won’t understand
And I too have gifts and, who knows,
Maybe they are enough to hold me
In my frustration and my grief.
There is, of course, Him
In all his magnificence
Who tells me not to write;
To speak with Him and Him alone
And leave you well alone.
Forget I wrote, I was misled,
Yours sincerely, Ned.
Written on 22nd January 2020.