An open letter to my future husband:

Hi. You don’t know me yet and I don’t know you yet, but I know you’re out there. I actually think of you quite often, more often than you’d think I do.

I think of you during school, if I’ll possibly pass you in the halls unknowingly or if we’ll exchange ‘hellos’ and ‘how are you’s’ as a courtesy. I wonder if I’ll meet your eyes in class and look away shyly because we don't quite know each other yet. I think about you as I go to church, if you’re here too or if you’re in another church elsewhere. If you’re searching and hoping for me as I’m doing for you.

I wonder if I’ve met you yet. Regardless if we have or not, there are a few things I want to let you know about me and about us (when there is an ‘us’ of course):

I’m imperfect. This is obvious to everyone, especially me, and it usually bugs me a lot most of the time. I try to organize everything ‘perfectly’ when I know clearly that anything perfect doesn’t truly exist. Things get out of place, life gets in the way, and it all goes out the window. And that frustrates me. Comfort me when I’m upset about it please, I’ll truly appreciate it. Also, clean up after yourself sometimes, I’ll appreciate that too.

I’m minimalistic to an extreme measure. So when I want to get rid of my entire closet one day, stop me. When I want to throw away a treasured memory because ‘it gets in the way of things’ or I think it’s ‘useless’, stop me. I’ll appreciate it, and you later on. Promise.

I’m insecure. There are days when I’ll put on clothes, look at myself in the mirror, and just not feel good enough. My hair won’t look right, my jeans won’t fit, and my makeup just will not work with me for some unknown reason. And I’ll cry about it and tell you exactly everything that I feel about myself and the way I look. This is the part that you’ll tell me I’m beautiful no matter what, right? I hope so. I hope you’ll say it and you’ll truly mean it with all your heart.

I love music, and I hope you love it as much as me. I hope we have endless dance parties in the kitchen late at night when we know we should be in bed asleep. I hope you scream out your favorite song with me in the car, not caring that your voice is too off-pitch, or that mine is as well. I hope we go to concerts together and sing our hearts out and wake up the next morning with horse voices and tons of orange juice to cure it.

I’m a hopeless romantic. I grew up in Europe for crying out loud, and my mom used to get flowers every Friday night when dad came home. Now I’m not saying I’m expecting the same from you, so don't get mad just yet. I’m just saying a little love note, my favorite chocolate (which is Twix by the way, you're welcome), doing the dishes, or buying me one of those teddy bears from the dollar section every now and then wouldn't hurt. I’m a big fan of the little things, and I literally mean the little things, so just keep that in mind. Don't be afraid to hold my hand in public, I like the reminder that you're there and that you love me. But keep those public announcements to the world that you love me to a minimum, drawing attention isn't my favorite. This is the longest paragraph, so if you take ANYTHING away from it, just remember it's the little things.

Most of all, I hope you know I’m going to love you with all of me; my mind, my body, and my soul. I can’t wait to make memories with you and tell you everything there is to know about me. I can't wait to know all about you and hear about all of the memories you’re making right now as well.

So here’s to all of the bittersweet, tear-filled, laughing-so-hard-that-I-snort moments we will share together one day. But until that day, I’ll continue waiting for you, praying for you. I hope you’ll do the same for me.