For Mag 308:
Dear Future Me, I wanted to tell you that whatever happens tonight- on the corner of L and Ninth; you will survive.
That this too, this sense Of worry wrapping itself like a wreath around your windpipe will pass, whether lost in the exhilaration of assent; or obliterated in the loud clang of a cataclysmic bang.
That this sense of free fall, of uncertainty gnawing at your insides will give way to the clarity of certitude; that the restful stillness of truth will triumph over the ambivalence of baseless hope.
That one day you will return, To this space, this place of quiet contemplation - To begin again, for better, or for worse.