literature

Dear... An unsent letter

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Literature Text

Dear Future Emma,

Happy Birthday!

Firstly, OH MA GURD IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY! Secondly, OH MA GURD, I'M WRIITNG TO FUTURE YOU! Although by the time you read this, future you will be present you... I will admit, this is not the first draft of this letter since my laptop seems to think it's a temperamental teenager and has taken a liking to crashing. So, here we are, on the fourth draft(ish) of this letter.

Although I’ll probably never actually give you this, I still want to write it. Because as doubt dwells inside of my heart, tears will probably stream out of my eyes. Sounds like some kind of awesome robot. In reality, it’s just me sobbing as I write some words that will never be read. Which may be a shame, but still…

I’d like to thank you. Today, in our society we’re taught that manners ‘cost nothing’ so we should always say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. You can only say a word a certain amount of times before the meaning is stripped away.

However, I am grateful. Truly grateful. For every inside joke, sarcastic comment and nerdy
reference. Thank you for the memories we’ve had so far and for the future ones we will create.
Words, I think, are the most powerful weapon. People can say that ‘actions speak louder than words’ but as an aspiring author, I think I win. Since I write about those actions that speak louder than words. With a turn of a phrase, people can cry, laugh, cringe and/or fling their arms around as though they’re having some form of seizure. Yet, considering my future dream job, I’m rather shit at expressing myself in any other way than the written word.  So then, I’d like to get to the point of this rather mushy letter.
I am a rather shit friend.

Social situations make me uncomfortable. Enough so that what someone says half an hour prior can stick in my head for the rest of the day. ‘Why did they say that?’ or ‘What did they mean?’ I find myself asking questions. So thank you for putting up with this rather shit friend.
Honestly, there are times when I doubt the reasons I write. Is it really ‘worth it’? I don’t know. I really don’t know at times, and it’s painful. Writing can be painful. Because when I write, I know that the words I type have an impact on more people than just myself.
It’s painful, but there’s a sense of fulfilment. As though I’ve done something so amazing.

Sorry, I’ve started to get carried away.
Yeah, sorry about that.

Happy birthday.
-_- I may or may have not cried whilst writing this.... 

Whilst this is based on real events/feelings, names etc. have been changed for privacy reasons. So, yeah...


>.< This is the 19th submission of a challenge I set myself to submit 50 deviations within a month. 
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