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Dear FutureMe, I can't do the math too well of the top of my head, but I hope you're doing well. If it's 2010 now, 2021 will be 11 years from now right? I just picked it cause it's a pretty number and you know me, I love beautiful things. I hope that hasn't changed; I hope you still love the beautiful things and lie down in (another) track field and watch the clouds with your friends and point out the weirdest shapes you find. At 11 years from now, you'll be 27. How's life? Did we finally find a guy? Are we into girls? I'm still wondering you know, sometimes, and this is the first time I've admitted it to myself, so who knows? Tell me that we've done it. Tell me that we graduated college and are in law school, or at least in the process of. Tell me that I've had at least one guy who makes me happy, though I'd hope it's more. Are we still obsessing over pretty shows? Do you remember summer months spent gleeing over Firefly and Torchwood and Doctor Who? Tell me we still have those somewhere, that we still have the same friends with which to do so.