Dear Non-Existent Boyfriend,

I just have a couple of questions for you. Where in the world are you, boy? I mean, seriously, when are we supposed to meet, or have we met before and I just didn't realize it at the time?

I'm sorry for the inquisition at the beginning. (I'm really not like that normally.) The purpose of this letter isn't to waste time asking questions. I suppose you would like to know the reason for this letter. And I would wonder the same thing if I were receiving a letter like this. I do not know quite what I want to tell you, so bear with me on this.

To start off, I can't wait to meet you (seriously, what's the hold-up here?) and see how our personalities match up. Will we match each other with the "sarcastically hilarious, witty remarks" side of my personality? Or will we go toe-to-toe with the "fangirling over TV shows, movies, music, and books" side of my personality? Maybe we match up the "overly self-conscious about my actions, thoughts, what I say" side of my personality?

Next, my mind goes to wondering how you will react to my little quirks. When I talk to myself, would you laugh at me or just accept it and let me work through it? When I have those days when nothing goes right, would you calmly let me vent or would you pretend to listen? When I start panicking, would you be comfortable calming me down gently or would you calm me down but feel awkward about it? Will you be able to know when to tell me I need to stop drinking coffee because I'm talking to fast for you to understand?

I can't wait to do couple-ly things with you. We'll go rollerblading, and you'll help me up when I fall, which will likely cause you to fall with me; we'll end up laughing at ourselves. Drive out to the country, lay out a blanket, and stargaze while talking about anything and everything. Or have an all-day movie marathon with ice cream, beef jerky, and pop.

Fights. I will not be able to stand fighting with you. Sometimes I will stand my ground and be stubborn. Other times, I will get extremely quiet and walk away with tears in my eyes. I might start yelling, which will lead to possible crying. You will probably have to give me space, but I can promise, I will always want to hug; the first words out of my mouth will (usually) always be, "I'm sorry. You know how much I hate fighting with you."

You won't be perfect. I know 100 percent, I'm not perfect. As long as you choose me and I choose you at the end of the day, nothing else will matter.

Yours truly,

Melissa (or whatever cute name you come up with that I can tolerate)