9 Days, 9 Letters
A bit of a hiatus from this "project," clearly, but I never promised the days would be consecutive!
Dear Future Husband,
Sometimes I wish I could flip a switch, or wish on the right star, and you'd just show up. Sometimes I wish I could be the kind of person that says, "I don't really care if I get married or not, if it happens it happens, but I'm good either way," and completely mean it. Most of the time, I'm somewhere in between - I'm okay with you not being here now, I really am, and I don't want you right now, but...I wish I knew you were coming. I wish I knew, with absolute certainty, that I wouldn't be alone forever.
I worry that you don't exist. Because I really want you to exist. It isn't that I'm not okay now, or that I'm looking for my other half or some crap like that, but...I want someone to do life with. I want someone who I get to know everything about, who gets to know everything about me, and loves me anyway. I want someone who pulls me out of the way when I wander into strangers' paths because they know I'm not noticing. I want someone who takes notice of where I put my keys because they know I'll forget. I want someone to cook really badly with. I want someone to whom I can point out social things I know they'll miss. I want someone to surprise with really awesome morning sex before important life events. I want someone I wake up next to and go to bed next to and with whom I fight and fuck and make love and dream dreams and sing songs and make budgets and bitch about old student loans and how ridiculously overeducated we are and how freaking insane families can be.
I always wonder about you around the holidays, because it's a time for families, and mine is so very...odd. I really hope that they aren't my only chance to have a concept of what being a part of a family feels like. I hope that you come, and we meet, and we start our own little tribe. And I would love it if you absolutely adored your family, so I got a whole functional family unit with the deal, but even if you don't, even if your wounds go as deep as mine...well, there's something to be said about having someone else in the room that knows exactly what casual remarks are leaving scrapes to be tended later.
It's only been very recently that I can kind of imagine you. I mean, not you, specifically, because we haven't met yet, or not in this capacity, but...maybe feeling that way, at all. Imagine seeing someone every day and knowing their crap and liking them anyway, finding someone so very different than yourself and not seeing a strange and terrifying foreign land but shores fertile for exploration. I'll be the first to admit that I don't trust love; I've seen people do lots of stupid things in its name, and as Sarah Dessen points out, "love makes you put up with shit that you shouldn't," so know that I'm probably going to drag my feet. (And, no, you won't expect me to be that kind of person until you're in quite deep; I'll forget myself, for a time, I'm sure. But it's there. Sorry.)
But I am so excited to meet you. There are relationships in my life now that aren't even romantic, really, but they feel so much better than I imagined anything would - I mean, I didn't know things could feel right like this, that there could be people that just got you, that you could trust without any conditions and love without expectations, people who fight for you and give you their wisdom and strength and show you places no one else sees. And I can't wait, if this is just a good friendship, to see what loving you, building a deep, lifelong, sexy frienship with you, will be like. It's going to be splendid. And hurt a lot. But it's such a worthy trade, I think.
Just...please come give me the chance to make it. Preferably between 2 and 7 years from now :P
Love,
Lusie