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Chloë Moloney looks to the future, writing a letter to her 50-year-old self.

This is frightening. Maybe I don’t mean frightening, but I’m certainly feeling apprehensive. You know a lot more than I do, about me. To be quite honest, I don’t really know much about me at nineteen, let alone what I’m going to be like thirty-one years from now. Only you know what has happened to Mum and Dad, and whether or not you still bicker with your sister on occasion. I’m sure we’re intrinsically the same, once our skin is shed. You just have another couple of layers added on top.

I wonder if you’ve forgotten what nineteen-year-old Chloë was like, or what she did. Well, under a word limit I couldn’t possibly spiel out my autobiography, but I could tell you what I’m doing as of right now. It’s a Saturday morning and I’m sequestered away in my little Durdham room, giggling at having heard of my friend’s escapades the night before. Tonight, I’ll go for drinks with a friend. Sip rye whisky and listen to Steely Dan.

‘I’m hoping that you’re whizzing through the dusty states of the US on an old Harley Davidson’

Naturally, I have romanticised about the transgressions of fifty-year-old me. I’m hoping that you’re whizzing through the dusty states of the US on an old Harley Davidson, listening to old rock and kicking back in sooty evenings. Perhaps you exercise more (you should) and like mushrooms now, or maybe you’ve even got a scattering of novels under your belt. Exciting stuff.

Remember how Mum used to ask when there’d be little sprogs running around, calling her ‘grandma’? I wonder if her wish has been fulfilled. A family…do I have one of those? I don’t think I want one, not really. I’m too selfish for children. A husband…oh, will I have one of those? Do I want one of those? I don’t know – but I guess I don’t have to for a while.

”Shape of You’ by Ed Sheeran is currently number one’

I couldn’t care less about how much money you earn, or the size of your house. I’d rather keep this sentimental, not lingering on heavy-handed things which really don’t matter.

However, I feel obliged to ram some superficial stuff into this. ‘Shape of You’ by Ed Sheeran is currently number one. Actually, he’s holding the top fifteen spots. Good for him, I suppose. I wonder what you’re reading. If you still ceremoniously flick through Stephen King each night before bed. Or whether you and him are best buds, now. Boy, that would be cool.

You might come to this scrap of writing for a quick leak of 2017. A time capsule, of sorts.

‘I’ll let you get back to life’

But I implore you not to reminiscence, please. Looking back serves no purpose, at least not much. Let this be merely like locking eyes with a stranger in an alleyway. Let life sweep you away, but be sure to keep your eyes wide open the whole journey.

Anyway, I mustn’t keep you. It’s been nice shipping a little portion of young Chloë over your way.

I’ll let you get back to life.

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What do you want to say to your 50-year-old self? Let us know.

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