Dear Dylan, (to be received on April 24, 2016 11 p.m.)

Tomorrow I'm going to break up with you. I really don't want to. I hate the fact that I do anyway. My dad flipped out over you yesterday and is giving me hell. I'm not kidding, the old me is up to her ears in punishments. She's still glad she kissed you though. I'm still glad I kissed you.

I'm going to break up with you even though I don't want to. Mostly because I don't want to get either of us into more trouble. You going to say, "So you're really going to break up with me?"

I'm going to nod as tears drip down my face and I'm going to look away.

Just so we're clear, its not to soon to say what you want to say. We've been on and off all year, its ok. Say it. "But I don't just like you. I love you."

That sentence alone will keep us connected in ways that nothing else ever will. Promise.

For better or worse, say it,

Future Her