Race, Eggs, Letters to Self

We wrote letters to ourselves last October before we shipped out on our adventures, and I just received mine today. I’ve been waiting for this letter for awhile, I remembered writing a lot, but I had no idea what I wrote about.

It’s kind of personal, but then again everything I share on this blog is personal. So fuck it. Enjoy. : )

Dear Annie,

Congratulations on everything and everyone you’ve experienced this year. If I can tell you anything, it’s to remember that there is something valuable in every moment, every person, and the beautiful challenge of life is to constantly strive to discover this, while also continuing to move in the direction that is important and healthy and exciting and intriguing and ever changing and new.

I challenge myself right now to learn to trust myself more. And learn to truly believe I am capable of magic in every moment, and following through on long term plans and goals just for me, regardless of outside opinion. I hope you meet all and do all you can while still focusing on the future: applying, writing, researching and exploring. I hope you never fear change and the unpredictable again- but learn to view it as the full essence of life: to be embraced and explored. Trust yourself, follow through, always continue to expand your opportunities and never be afraid to smile and shake someone’s hand. Stay safe and travel in groups, but learn to feel confident enough to know what is and isn’t safe when on own. Remember and love everyone who helped get you here, and aspire to be that push and support for others as well. Travel forever and love my family- the only thing to fear is a life not fully realized.

Live your full life,

Lovelove,

Annie

Dre and I both end up in the kitchen at midnight.

And we get deep into American race relations.

And we’re both a little bit tipsy.

And it’s a completely raw and eye opening experience for both of us.

Which we probably won’t remember in the morning.

But the only time we could have had it was tonight.

“Annie. This is just another chapter in your book.”

“You mean like how we’re all authors of our own lives, or you mean I’m just writing this shit down?”

“This is going to be your book. You’ve got the head space of a writer. You’re always wandering off to write your own perspective out, through all of our experiences together. I get it. I don’t know how to express myself fully in conversation. But I’ve started writing letters. And it’s a whole different experience. It all comes out. ”

We proceed to make eggs, and talk about everything we’ve ever wondered about. And use pasta sauce in place of salsa on our breakfast burritos.

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