A letter I have written to my ten year old self.
To my dearest Sebastian,
I am writing you this letter because I want to give you a heads up at what happens to you nine years from now.
You’re turning ten and life seems to be full of promise and colour. But in a matter of months the colours will drain away, your bed won’t feel as warm and the only thing that will boost your self-esteem will be to fantasize how everyone would react to your untimely death.
Three months after your tenth birthday your father will be unemployed and so he will take his frustration out on you. You will resent both of your parents for the rest of your life.
At age 11 you will secretly wish that the devil was real so you could make a deal with him; you’d sell your own soul for the chance to make everyone like you.
At age 12, you will accept the fact that the Devil isn’t real, and as a result you will lose all faith within yourself.
At age 13 years you will start to drown in loneliness.
At age 14 you will attempt to kill yourself for the first time… but you chicken out and instead just cry yourself to sleep.
At age 15 you will meet a boy, Jude. You’ll find him beautiful and because of him you will taste vodka and red wine for the first time. After three months Jude will openly cry in front of you, realising that he’s just as damaged and in your attempt to comfort him he will kiss you.
At age 16, after months of denial, you will accept the fact that you, my dear Sebastian, are gay. Nine months later you will lose your virginity to Jude and you’ll confess your love to him.
At age 17, Jude will leave you and you will no idea why. Your second attempt to end your own life was nearly successful, but instead of being in heaven you’ll be in hospital. One week later you’ll be admitted into a clinic for depression, you’ll hate it.
At age 18, you’re still in the clinic, but it seems a little better when you meet Dylan, he’s been there for three years. Two months later Dylan will sneak into your room at 12:30 in the morning and you’ll do nothing but talk until morning. Three months later a girl named, Julie, who left the clinic a year before will kill herself and be found in her bathtub. One month later Dylan is released from the clinic.
At age 19, the desire to commit suicide is no longer with you; the colour in the world will slowly seep back in after nine years of grey. You’ll be released from the clinic and you’ll move in with Dylan, you’ll find a job as a waiter and get paid fuck all. But you won’t care that much, you’re a little happier now.
You will thank me later and know that even though the coming years will be horrendous you will be ok. You won’t be great and you won’t have the perfect life that you imagined, but you’ll be happier by the end of it.
Sebastian (age 20)