When I was 22, I encountered my 17 year old self in the basement bar of a youth hostel in Athens. He dressed like I did (when I was 17), he talked about the same things in the same way, he looked broadly the same. I considered an intervention, since he was clearly booring those he was talking to (another confirmation that it was truly my 17 year old self), but decided that the question about time travel could become awkward.

What happened to that timeline, to that other just slightly younger me, I do not know. Perhaps things sped up and we joined together (I'd guess at about age 27 if I had to). Or perhaps the timelines have diverged, and there's another version of me somewhere both so close and so far, doing what I do and leaving me very glad that I cannot watch him do it.