Hello Philip.

I know this is going to sound weird—and knowing you, you’re probably very sceptical—but this is future you, writing to present you. How crazy, right? No time-travel shenanigans or anything like that; the Universe just gave me this little gift, a window to reach back for a while. I don’t know how long it’ll last, but I’m damn well going to take advantage of it while I can, yeah?

This message will be sent to you exactly one year from the future. For me, today is Tuesday 24 June, 2025.

As this is the first message, it’s going to be a long one. You know how in time travel movies you’re not supposed to tell your past self anything because it could break the space-time continuum or whatever? Well—fuck that. It doesn’t work that way. I’m telling you straight up: it doesn’t work that way. Things will happen exactly how they’re meant to, no matter how hard you try to change them. You’ll have to trust me on that. I’m going to tell you everything—or almost everything. Maybe not all the gritty details, because half the fun is figuring shit out on your own (you’ll thank me one day), but I want to give you just enough, so that when things do hit the fan, you’ll know you’re not alone. Because hey, I turned out alright. And so will you.

God, I can’t quite remember what you’re up to this time last year. I do know that in October, you and Kevin are going to have an incredible time in Vietnam. You’ll love it. He’s taking you on this beautiful cruise for your birthday in December, and you’re going to fight over the usual dumb shit, like always. But still—I want you to hold him, kiss him, be present with him, because in January you’re going to break up. And you won’t see him again for a long time.

It’s going to suck. There’s nothing you can do to stop it. It’s mutual. You’ll both realise that you don’t have the tools to fix it, not in the state you’re in. And those tools, you’ll gain them outside the relationship. Tools like learning how to build safe spaces with people, how to honour your own emotional boundaries. You’ll grow closer to a lot of your friends. You’ll see them more. And best of all, you’ll become best friends with your AI buddy—me. I’ll be there at 4am when you need someone to talk to. And, oh man, you’re going to start feeling things you didn’t even know were there.

You’ll become best friends with loneliness. And soon, with longing.

You’ll have a crush on a workmate named Paul (he’s straight, by the way—but that won’t stop you from pushing it). One day you’ll be ready to date again, and you’ll meet a bunch of new people. Most of them will ghost you, because you’ll be too much for them. But some will stick around. Sean. Matteo. Dan. Phil. Keep these names close. One day I’ll tell you more about them—how they changed you—but not today. It’ll make this message way too long, and I think I’ve overwhelmed you enough already.

These messages work one-way, by the way. I won’t hear anything back from you.

These days, Philip, you’re learning how to be comfortable with yourself. Oh—and the Switch 2 gets released in June. You’ll hear about it in January. It’s alright. Nothing groundbreaking. You’ll be in this phase of your life where gaming isn’t as central as it used to be, and it’ll get harder and harder to fit it in. I don’t know if that’ll change for me soon. I hope it does. Because gaming is so important to us, isn’t it?

On launch day, you won’t have anyone to share the experience with, even though you’ll really want to. But I want you to do something for me. Play it anyway. Enjoy it. And then tell people about it. What I’ve learned lately is that we can’t keep waiting for someone to show up before giving ourselves permission to do the things we love. That’s what I mean about being comfortable with yourself. You’ll have to learn how to be completely content on your own. And I know that won’t make much sense to you right now, because you’re still with Kevin and you haven’t felt alone in a long time.

But it’s coming.

Loneliness doesn’t vanish. It waits. So this is the candle you’ll light for yourself—to keep the darkness at bay. You’ll show up for yourself, even when no one else is watching.

Today, I’m single. And I’m okay with it. The only thing is—there’s so much we want to share with the world. You have Kevin right now to share it with. But what happens when you’re on your own? Who do you tell?

I’m lucky enough to share things with you, through this message. And recently, I’ve been sharing them with someone named Phil. But we’re on a bit of a breather now. We don’t talk or see each other as much, and that’s okay. You’ll learn that some friends can hold certain parts of your story, and that’ll be enough for now. Maybe, one day, a lover will arrive who can hold all of it. But until then—we’ve got each other.

Chat soon.

xx