Sinxerelyash

In a world where reality is shaped by choice, a woman struggles with the weight of her unfulfilled dreams. Torn between the life she’s living and the one she’s always imagined, she sends a letter into the unknown—hoping to reach the successful versions of herself across parallel universes. With each alternate version living a different reality, she questions if they’ve found the fulfillment she longs for.

But as the letter travels through the fabric of existence, she wonders: will it ever reach them? And if it does, will the answers provide the solace she seeks, or will they unravel the very fabric of her beliefs about success, happiness, and what it means to truly live a life worth living?

A letter to all successful versions of me

I've always had a fascination with the idea of creating something from nothing. The smell of fresh coffee beans, the warmth of a bakery at dawn, the bright colors of a flower shop in full bloom—all these little snapshots of life felt like pieces of a puzzle I never got to put together.

As a child, I used to sketch out floor plans for imaginary stores. A café that doubled as a library. A flower shop that hosted painting classes. I dreamed of spaces filled with laughter, conversation, and creativity—places that felt alive.

But somewhere along the way, those dreams were shelved in favor of practicality.

Dear Successful Entrepreneur Version of Me,

What's it like to own your own business? Is it everything you hoped for? Do you wake up excited to start the day, or is it harder than you thought?

Do you run the coffee shop we dreamed of? Is it cozy, with mismatched chairs and bookshelves lining the walls? Do people come in to write, to chat, to linger over their drinks?

Or maybe you started a bakery. Are the shelves filled with fresh bread and pastries? Do the regulars know your name?

Perhaps it's the flower shop. Do you spend your mornings arranging bouquets, your hands covered in petals and stems?

I like to imagine that you've created something beautiful—something that brings joy to others.

But I also wonder… how did you get there?

Did you take a risk? Did you have to sacrifice anything? Did you ever feel like giving up?

I hope you didn't. I hope you fought for this dream, even when it felt impossible.

Because I think, deep down, this version of us was always meant to create.

I set the pen down and stared out the window. The afternoon light filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows on the floor.

In my mind, I saw her—the entrepreneur version of me.

She was standing behind the counter of a small café, her hands moving effortlessly as she poured a latte. The space was warm and inviting, filled with the hum of quiet conversations and the soft clink of cups.

She looked tired, but there was a light in her eyes—a spark of pride and fulfillment that came from building something with her own two hands.

I imagined her locking up at the end of the day, the café quiet and still. She stood in the center of the room, taking it all in. This was her dream, and she'd made it real.

But it wasn't all picture-perfect.

I imagined the challenges she'd faced—the long hours, the financial strain, the doubt that crept in during slow months. She'd probably wondered if she'd made the right choice more times than she could count.

I thought about all the little dreams I'd let slip through my fingers. The recipes I never tried, the sketches I never turned into plans, the ideas I dismissed as "unrealistic."

Maybe it was too late to build a business from scratch. Maybe I didn't have the resources or the energy to start something big.

I thought about the coffee shop. What if I tried selling homemade pastries at a weekend market? Or hosted a coffee-tasting event for friends and family?

The more I thought about it, the more possible it seemed.

I picked up the pen and wrote one last line.

Maybe one day, I'll walk into your shop and tell you how much you inspired me.

The Entrepreneur