I’ve been writing here for almost five years and I’ve started wondering what you’ll make of it one day when you start reading these letters to you, and finding out more about me, you when you were younger, and our lives.
I’ve mostly published each post thinking “Will he be angry one day?”, “Will your maybe therapist be sifting through this stuff to figure out if or what went wrong?”, and “Will the committee at the Ivy League College (or anywhere) looking through these posts as part of their application and ‘check your digital footprint’ process?”.
I hope I’ve been guided well by these looming questions, and that I’ve been prudent in leaving a lot of stuff out, while at least leaving some stuff in that will hopefully make a good or interesting or insightful or humorous read for you one day.
While I’ve essentially written for you, I’ve also written for myself. I’ve shared my reasons here about why I write on this platform, and I’ve learnt, processed, cried, smiled and seen the wood for the trees on this blog.
But I wonder what you’ll make of it all, and for now, it’s not enough to stop me from adding to this memory album of sorts, but will you like paging through it? Will you think it was too much, or too little, or too honest, or too dishonest? Will you see my flaws that I might have better otherwise hid, or will you realise how many flaws I’ve been hiding here?
Once or twice you’ve come across your pics while I’ve been drafting a blog post here, and you’ve asked if I’m putting pictures on Facebook (I’m not sure where you heard of Facebook), and I’ve said I’m writing letters to you on the internet for you to read one day. I’m not sure you understood this, but let’s just say that the mention of looking at LEGO pictures online has excited you much more, and rightly so for now, I guess.
I hope that I’ve edited it all well Max, and that this might be for you the equivalent of a great and absorbing Netflix series – one that does’t involve a crazy mother, I hope.
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