Dear 17-year-old self,

Dear Jackass,

You’re a jackass. It’s not your “fault” — most people are jackasses when they are teenagers. You at least try. But the world is cruel to you right now in a way that most teenagers don’t have to deal with. You are struggling with suicide. You have been contemplating killing yourself for quite some time, and will continue to struggle with it throughout your life.

The hard truth is, the world will continue to be harsh for quite some time.

But over time, you get better and forming good friendships and relationships. You build community. You build friendships.

And one day, one random day in April six days from now, you will find yourself moving your stuff out of a tiny house that you built yourself. An older couple will walk up with their chihuahua named glitter.

As you talk to the couple they will ask if you are the young man that lives in the tiny house. You will nod and say yes then look over at the love of your life playing with your dog.

You will add, “Yes, but I am moving out of it. I am starting a family.”

The older woman will smile big then ask, “Is that your wife over there?”

You will nod, “Even better. My soulmate.”

The older woman will smile and then say, “Ohh, you are lucky. She is beautiful.” You will smile and laugh as you watch her run around with your dog (even though you know she doesn’t like dogs — she tries for you).

You will whisper, “You have no idea”.

And everything will be OK.

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