Not a letter, but the idea of saying goodbye to a part of ourselves led me to finally conceive this poem I'd been meaning to write for a while.

21

  Upon this day I have reached, perhaps,
  My last formal transition into adulthood.
  I understood 18 signified this somewhat more.  
  
  I could buy alcohol and tobacco. I could  
  vote to chance the political score.  
  But I couldn't really tell what had changed inside.

  Yet, I'm left pondering. 
  Wondering, about the difference between my old self and I.
  Reading of people who are conceding that they
  Don't feel any different to their teens.
  What does being an adult mean?
  Maybe 'adult' is just a noun which means I frown more often...

  However, I've begun to comprehend the difference between
  it all. The dissonance that has emerged between the me
  finishing my degree and the one who was at
  primary school. The spark that hides inside 
  which triggers the fall into 
  the coming of age.

  Simply, it's consciousness.

  That's what's really maturing. And the day
  you realise it's quite abrupt.
  You now have potentially decisive decisions
  You think existentially and you're no longer free.
  You're slave to your mind's questions, each answer
  opening up yet more inquires.

  For answers you seek suggestions as your time
  seems to lessen. Each year a smaller percentage 
  of your life. It's never-ending strife to find
  meaning of what you're seeing in the world. 
  Until one day its unfurled as much as it's allowed.
  And you end the same way you began.

  So I wave goodbye to my innocence of sorts
  But at the same time the new thoughts are welcomed.
  I'm ever fascinated by cognitive and physical
  landscape like I never was before. I still 
  feel that I can tame some of my inner child,
  even though we'll never be the same.