Do not open until 2022.

I have an envelope that’s marked with those very words, the sealed contents of which I wrote when I was just fifteen. Maybe sixteen. And then promptly folded up and tucked away, not to be opened again until I turned 40 and felt like being really, really embarrassed as I’m sure I’ll be when I finally read whatever nonsense it is I felt was important enough to write down when I was only a baby. Fifteen sounds so incredibly young. I didn’t know shit back then. Unfortunately, at 32 (WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN) I hardly feel like I’m all that much wiser. [Insert one of those straight-mouthed emoticons here.]

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