Dear “Future” Guy

You’re the nicest guy I’ve met in a while.

But you sucked the life out of me.

I’m a raccoon dressed like a responsible adult, sneaking wine at a kids’ Christmas show while the parents take one look at me and know exactly what I am.

You’re the “future” guy, playing dress-up, trying to advance your career because you want to be one of them.

I’m not your North Star.

I’m not your “light up your life while you feel trapped in yours because you’re 31 and you’re trying to stabilize, build a life, and find a wife.”

We both know I’ll never fit into your future.

You’re not my co-conspirator.

You’re a scared boy in a man’s suit, trying to cage anything wild just so you’d feel less alone.

Well, I hope you don’t bury yourself alive trying to become the person you think you’re supposed to be.

Peace out.