Dear 45 Year Old Self,

This is old, but I needed something to write about so I scanned through the old Daily Prompts & this sounded fun.

You’re what… 45 now?

I bet you were scared through your lifetime of getting older.  44 isn’t so bad, is it?  You’re probably thinking totally different.  Right now, though, I’m scared to death to get older.  Not because I’m older.  But because I’m closer to death.  Is that what you’re thinking?

I wonder if you’re still in Oklahoma.  Are you still living across the street from Tim?  Or did you finally grow some ‘balls’ & move away?  I kind of hope we did.

Are we still lonely?  Married?  Did we have kids?  Right now I don’t want any.  Any of it.  I’m too picky & it’s not worth settling with someone I don’t want & cannot love.  Know what I mean?  Did we ever figure out what ‘love’ was & do we feel it?

So have we become the scary cat woman that neighbor kids are afraid of?  I’m already almost there.  Neighbor kids won’t come out if I’m around.  *giggles*

Did any of our dreams come true?  Are we a novelist?  Did we finally finish the trilogy that we planned to a tee?  I hope so.  I really do.  That’s what would make me happy.  Do you even still write?  I would hate to know that one day I just stop.

I don’t know what it’s like when I’m 45; I’m sorry, what it will be like.  I just hope I’m happy.  Accomplished.  Thin?  I hope Tim & I are just as close – no matter where I am located.

I hope we don’t still work at the Casino.  I’m hoping that we’re far away from there living dreams we didn’t think was possible.

But in all, I hope for happiness & that all my ‘what if’s’ are gone & I am finally making decisions that will be great for myself.

Love always,
25 Year Old Barbara


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