Phrases will surface unexpectedly, and your seven-year-old self will emerge from the depths of rainy tents and modern-day tales of red-haired Swedish heroines. The words you've used your entire life no longer seem adequate, as you try to remember how it is that the person you once were uses the same words as the person you are now.
Current self : we wait patiently, for the mountains to erode, for the glaciers to melt, to remember why it is that you're here, munching on peaches and not wearing gingham-dresses in a cottage you've built yourself. There, you could forget proper pronouns.
Former self : I've waited for you to return the letters I wrote you; it's been years and the excuses I've heard include boring notions of time and space.
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