Dylan’s Letter
Dylan’s Let ter
Dylan,
First off—holy crap, we actually made it. High school. Done! Wild, right?
I don’t know where you’re reading this, but I hope it’s somewhere good. A place that feels like yours. Because if you’re anything like me right now, you need it.
I won’t lie. I wasn’t exactly excited to write this. The whole letter to your future self thing felt weird, but maybe one day it’ll mean something? Hopefully, it’ll at least remind you how far we’ve come, and that we’ve survived.
Do you remember all those nights before moving to Rockport when we couldn’t sleep? How we’d lie there, staring at the ceiling, planning our escape like it was the only way we’d ever really start living? It felt like our only choice back then. Like if we didn’t run, we’d get stuck watching mom drown herself in everything she could get her hands on, and probably end up just like her. Miserable. But somehow, we landed in Rockport, and to be honest, it doesn’t feel as temporary as I thought it would.
Of course, there’s Brooks. Yeah, yeah, I hate to say it, but he’s probably the biggest reason. He talks about working for his dad’s construction company like it’s set in stone. His whole life has already been laid out for him. But I can see it—the part of him that wants something else but won’t say it out loud. That’s what finally made me stop and ask myself what I really want. Maybe art isn’t just a hobby. Maybe I don’t have to put miles between me and Mom to figure out who I am.
And Beckett. God, Becks. He’s actually happy here, like really happy. For so long, it felt like it was just us against the world, always waiting for the next disaster. But now? He’s found his people—not just teammates he shares the field with, but real friends who get him. A life outside all the crap we went through. A future.
But here’s the thing. Becks still thinks the plan is to leave this place, leave mom behind after graduation, like we always talked about. But the more I see him here, the more I think maybe he doesn’t need to go. Maybe this is what we’ve been looking for all along. I just need to figure out how to bring it up without totally blindsiding him.
And maybe I’m starting to see things differently for myself, too. I get it—we’ve always kept our walls up. It felt safer that way, like if no one could see the mess, then no one could hurt us. But not everyone’s out to tear us down. Some people actually show up for you, and they prove they’re worth the risk.
So, listen—don’t forget about yourself is all I’m saying. I know we’ve spent so much time worrying about Beckett and Mom, but we matter, too. You matter. Your dreams? They’re worth something. I hope you travel, paint the world, and do whatever you want ten years from now too. Stop waiting for some perfect moment to start living your life. Just go for it. Whatever’s next, you’ll figure it out.
So…did we do it? Did we finally get to Paris?
Are we still in Rockport, or did we end up somewhere else?
What about Becks? Did he stick around, or did he chase something bigger?
Did Mom ever get better?
And Brooks…is he still in our life? I hope he’s happy. And if he’s not, I hope at least we are.
Love, Dylan