Dear Future Husband,
First of all, are you sure you still like me? Like, FOR SURE for sure? Okay, just double-checking.
I don’t know who you are but - wait, maybe, I do know you? Anyways, I love you. I know this because, well, I know myself. I don’t just whimsically make lifelong commitments on the daily. I mean, it’s hard enough for me to hit “going” on Facebook event invites. Like, I’m usually that irritating person that always RSVP’s with a “maybe” because I don’t like feeling confined to plans, until I am certain at the last second. So, this whole marriage thing - it’s a bit of a big deal.
I want you to know that you aren’t my partner, my spouse, or some ambiguous and genderless significant other in my life. You are exactly as you are. You are my husband. You are the love of my life and thereafter.
My vow, to you, isn’t “till death do us part;” my promise is till we part from death. If my calculations are correct, then a lifetime on earth and an eternity in heaven adds up to a very long time. However, I'm certain that, by our wedding day, I could not be dissuaded that another man could transform my reluctant love into immortality and my fruitful life into a cornucopia of exultation.
As you probably already know, I’m obnoxiously mushy-gushy and I attempt to arrange every word in the english language into the perfect phrasing to convey exactly how I feel. Also, I probably talk way too much in general, and pretend to knowledgeably speak about topics of which I know nearly nothing about. In addition, you most likely have realized that too often I point out my own shortcomings as a coping mechanism for my insecurities and fear of relenting how other people perceive me. I apologize too much for every trite mistake, yet you unapologetically have chosen to take a chance with me.
I need you to understand that you are not my other half nor do you “complete me.” While sounding harsh, this is a non-negotiable stipulation in this “to have and to hold” situation. Here’s why: it’s because I’m counting on you to never let me stop exploring the bewildering depths of the world and myself. If it requires another person to make me whole and content with the status quo, then I am disappointed in myself and I hope that you would be, too. I have so much more that I need to experience, discover, fail, learn, and grasp. You may love me, but you cannot live for me. Though, you may grow with me.
So, whether I have, in fact, met you or you are hundreds of miles away, I’ve thought about you. Hopefully, you’re cute and have nice eyebrows.
Is it possible that you aren’t real or even that I may not meet you for another 10 years?
It is.
Do I think the stress, the time, the energy, and the uncertainty are worth it?
I do.
Love,
Your Future Husband
