Dear Past Me, 

I’m so so so so so so so so sorry. Because you’re me, and I know you can handle it, I’m gonna tell it to you straight; you’re gonna do some really fucked up shit someday. And don’t think I’m pulling your leg, because I’m not. Despite what mom and dad tell you, putting woodchucks in that girl’s hair is not the worst thing in the world. Just – I wish I could be there to help you, but I can’t. You’re so naive now, and you think the world is just great and pleasant and – and, well it’s not. I’m sorry, Past Me. That’s all I can say. 

Sincerely, 

Arlene.