Dear Past,

I received a letter in the mail today, at my parents' house. It came in a square pink envelope with no return address. I recognized the hand writing. I cut the envelope open with a knife and unfolded the piece of paper inside of it.

''Dear Past,'' It said, ''You will not receive this letter''

''As time keeps on flying forward you slowly stop existing. You become a distant memory while your body merges with the present, then the future. You turn into this strange kid I once knew, but barely remember and wish I could meet again. As you read these lines, I can picture you sitting on your bed, hoping for good news.

''Within the next few years, you will be so happy you'll forget how pain feels. Your heart will be so light, no darkness could ever weight it down. You will be so content and satisfied with yourself, you won't believe how you could have ever been so insecure. Everything you ever did, every mistake you've ever made finally paid off and you will be exactly where you wanted to be.

''That's probably what you were hoping for. A letter from the future assuring you that you are on the right track, breaking you free from the comfort zone anxiety chained you to. A proof of concept, a guarantee, that the risks and leaps of faith you will take, are 100% worth it. But unfortunately, all I can give you for the moment are warnings.

''The plans you are making right now; you won't follow them. Things will get in the way and you'll climb mountains when you had prepared for valleys, swim down rivers you planed on crossing. You'll be so off track, you'll have to let go of the map all together.

''The years will come and go whether or not you make anything of them. You will scrape your knees on sharp rocks and lose a few people along the way, but you will inevitably reach a destination at some point. And in five years time, you will be someplace else. It won't be where you planned - after all just a few months ago your plans changed completely. This picture perfect happiness you are working towards will change during the journey, because you will enjoy swimming down the river, and you'll forget about the valleys once you see the view on the mountain. Because you are stubborn you'll pretend it was what you wanted all along, when in reality, you just took a chance on life's randomness.

''You will grow. That's the only certainty. Your heart will break more than a couple of times because none of us are immune to pain. Sometimes you will forget you loved the smell of coffee and wet grass and singing in the car as the sunset paints the horizon. Some days you will let fear and anxiety pilot the engine. And sometimes, you will make mistake. You will learn that happiness is an unreachable ideal, and you will learn to appreciate the anger, to understand the pain and to forgive the fear.

''I'm sorry, you'll never get to read this letter. Time only moves forward and by the time I get to write this letter you'll have ceased to exists. By the time I get to write this letter, it will be useless.''