A Letter to Myself 7 Days Ago
an exercise in time travelling correspondence. Don't worry, the space time continuum is fine.
Dear Chase From My Past,
Hi. It’s me (you) writing a letter to you (myself). This isn’t the first one of these we’ve come across. Very often, we’ve sat down and written a letter to ourselves in the future. Which is a nice way to check in. This isn’t that. Don’t over think it too much, but for the first time, I am able to write a letter from your future (my present) to my past (your present). I’ll let you take some deep breaths.
If I did this successfully, you should be reading this message on 6/22/26; SEVEN DAYS IN MYÂ PAST.
About now, you and Nicole were told the hard news that her MRI revealed that she has optical neuritis and that the doctor’s believe this and her symptoms indicate that she likely has MS. Sure, you’re catching it very early but I’m here to warn you that even though everyone suggests that you keep your knee surgery for Monday morning — don’t do it.
You will be bound to the couch while Nicole is in agony. Stuck laying down, loopy on opioids while she struggles to keep her head and the rest of her body still from tremors. Both of you unable to care for the other. Your surgery can happen later. Follow your gut. Be there for her. Get the cane out and go easy on your leg for a couple more months. I can’t stress enough how miserable it will feel inside. She’s going to do her absolute best to take care of your needs because she loves you and wants to support you. But you’ll see the toll it takes. And you’ll want to reciprocate but can’t. Hang in there. Your knee will be ok. Reschedule this thing, I promise it’s the better move.
I’ve got one more letter to write to us in case things don’t change. Be strong. Be there for Nicole.
Hugs,
Future You
Dear Chase 10 Minutes Ago,
That chicken pot pie got microwaved for way too long. Do not take a bite yet.
Thanks,
Chase