Dear Future Husband

Dear Future Husband,
This seems very romantic-comedy-esque, with me writing to you, even though I really don’t know who you’ll be yet. And sure, it may be corny or silly or sentimental. But just bear with me for a little bit, because I think there are some things you should know.

Dear Future Husband,
I love metaphorical rain, especially in books. My favorite holiday is my birthday, which just happens to be the Fourth of July. West Wing is by far my most beloved TV show, with Gilmore Girls in a close second.

Dear Future Husband,
I adore old movies. I can’t stand situational comedies because I get so uncomfortable I have to pace. And if we’re watching a movie together, chances are high I will cry regardless of the genre.

Dear Future Husband,
I have a freckle on my left butt cheek. I can’t roll my tongue but can raise both my eyebrows singularly. I hate the sound of my voice on tape, but love to talk.

Dear Future Husband,
I love traveling, when I can explore what the world has to offer. I practically live off semi-exotic foods I fell in love with on my travels. Expect to live adventurously and globally with me.

Dear Future Husband,
I’ve never started planning our wedding because I feel like that’s something I should do with you. I feel like to celebrate what will be our love I need you with me. But, if I had to pick our first dance song, it would definitely be “La Vie en Rose,” by Louis Armstrong.

Dear Future Husband,
The names of everyone on my dad’s side of the family start with a J or M, so my grandma insisted that I only date, and therefore marry, someone whose name begins with one of those letters for consistency purposes. If your name does…you get bonus points. And if it doesn’t…let’s just say there will always be the voice of my grandma in the back of my head.

Dear Future Husband,
When I get stressed out, I cut stuff out of magazines. When I get really stressed out, I grab some headphones and go for a walk, so don’t be alarmed if I leave after we have a fight. I just need space and time.

Dear Future Husband,
I tend to be the secret-keeper, the talk-it-out-with-person, the stand-in-mom for a lot of people. So if, at first, you’re scared to tell me your shit, don’t be. I heard plenty, and I’d be honored if you opened up to me.

Dear Future Husband,
I…I have my shit, too, though. Sometimes, I look down at my thighs and can’t eat. Sometimes I get so stressed out I can’t breath.

Dear Future Husband,
I don’t open up to many people, and it’s hard for me. Please be as understanding with me as I’ll try to be with you. I want to be able to tell you these things because it’s nice not to have to be the strong one all the time.

Dear Future Husband,
Sometimes, I think of past boyfriends, and I think I’ve never been anywhere near you. Sometimes, I think about my future and worry that I’ll never get to you. Sometimes, I can’t even comprehend the idea of what you’re supposed to be: perfect for me in all your human complexity.

Dear Future Husband,
Sometimes, I don’t know if you’re real.

Dear Future Husband,
Don’t get me wrong. I’m a confident woman. Most days, I really like who I am and the way that I look. But there are days that I doubt you exist, for a variety of reasons. It may be because I was annoying or smart-assy to someone. It could be because I felt fat or ugly. It may just be a bout of loneliness. But those are the days when I think there will never be someone who will want to spend the rest of their life with me. I mean, none of us have ever truly known there is someone out there for them. Right? Sure, I’m a little self-conscious, but really none of us can ever be 100 percent. Or do other people just know that there’s someone? Because, honestly, I doubt if you’ll ever be out there for me. I’ve been single for so long now. And I’m okay with that. I have a contingency plan if you don’t show up. I’ll adopt a kid, someone who needs me, and we’ll travel the world together. I’ll be able to take care of both them and me. I can clean and cook and be one with myself, all the things I need. I’ll be okay if you never arrive at my doorstep. But…I’d like a shot at love, just like everyone else. I’d really, really like you to be real.

Dear Future Husband,
Over the Seine in Paris, there is the Pont des Arts Bridge, also known as the lock bridge. As the tradition goes, couples go to the bridge, inscribe their names on a lock, and attach it to the wires of the bridge. With the lock comes two sets of keys. One gets thrown in the Seine, in case the love is to last forever. And if not, the second key is there to unlock the padlock in case the love isn’t true. Well, I went without you. I linked a small green lock to the bridge, wrote my initials and drew a heart, just the way I do. But instead of throwing one key in the Seine, I kept both. If you want a key to me, to my heart, to promise to love me, well…

Dear Future Husband,
If you’re real…if you’re real. There’s one here.
Waiting.
For you.

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