Dear 23-year-old self,

Thank you.

For being stupidly impulsive and nodding yourself all the way to a big dump of trouble.
Because of your sick decision to sell out to the world.
I could not have done what you did. You're the bravest 23-year-old I know.
You have so many plans and some of them seem unattainable, but you'd rather be delusional than be convinced that something you want to happen is impossible.
A gigantic suitcase and a friend with an even more gigantic heart are with you, and they are all you need to survive.
You don't pity yourself and mourn your plight, but laugh at the kind of adventure you put yourself through.
I won't try to belittle what you have done for me by giving you a high-five or a tight hug.
I will try to relive you, my 23-year-old self.
It's the only way I can ever experience what you have, to may homage.
Bonus: your friends are here! They followed suit to pursue their own goals.
So you are awesome. And if you say I am too, I will be on my way to make it happen again.

Love,
Zeena