Previously, from Craig Harper: "A Letter from Young Me to Old Me"
It was really great to hear from you (me). I was so excited when the mailman arrived at the door. I knew from the handwriting, the dusty old envelope, and the four cent stamp that it was from you (me). I couldn't open it fast enough. Where ya been? It's been too long since we chatted, but then again maybe I haven't been opening the right letters or paying attention. I know you've tried to make contact a few times. Perhaps I've ignored you a bit. Sorry about that. Didn't mean to.
Old people like me should listen more to seven year-olds like you. Sometimes I think I'm more important than I am. I get a bit carried away with myself and my very important life. Sometimes I forget to listen to you. I'll work on that.
Even though you're only seven, you're smarter than many grown-ups, so don't sell yourself short and don't be in a hurry to get big. Being big ain't all that. Lots of big people are tools.
We definitely need to communicate more, so keep those dusty old letters coming and I'll work at being the best old you I can be. I love hearing from you and I really dig it when you visit me when I'm asleep, so feel free to drop by any night. I'll only be sleeping anyway, so it would be great if we could hang out a little. I spend way too many sleeps having conversations with people I really don't wanna hang out with, so I'd much rather spend some time with you.
I have forgotten so much and I'd love you to refresh my memory and tell me all about me (you). While it was fantastic to receive your letter, it was also kinda bittersweet for me. Sweet in that it was great to hear from you again, but bitter in that I feel like I have let you down in some ways. Perhaps my standards have slipped a little over the last thirty-six years. Somewhere, somehow I think I left you behind. I didn't mean to - I actually think you're ace.
I think I lost some of your (my) generosity and patience, kindness and gentleness, and innocence and hope. I've probably become a little hard and selfish. Sometimes I don't know if you'd like the me you've become. Perhaps with your input I can change for the best. Perhaps I can unlearn a bit. I need to.