Monday, April 28, 2014

A letter to my future husband:

To my future husband:
            God Bless You…
            Even though I don’t know who you are or who I’ll be when I do get married, I can already tell you’re a special one.  You have to be in order to want to marry a person like me. 
            I talk way too much, sometimes forget to shower every day, get stressed out about crap-level stuff, have horrid morning breath, and could spend the rest of my life eating Oreos, French fries, and fried pickles.
            I’ll be the first to tell you I’ve got a lot of problems, but I don’t plan on changing anytime soon.  I’m probably going to have these imperfections when I do meet you, but it won’t be an issue because you’ll think I’m flawless just like I think you are too. 
            I sometimes think about how and when I’ll meet you.  Maybe it will be tomorrow while I’m browsing the shelves of Barnes and Noble for the next addition to my library.  It could also be 60 years down the road when I’m eating blended pizza and prune juice in a nursing home.
That’s saying, however, that I haven’t met you yet.  If we have met then I guess I owe you an apology.  I’m probably making this really hard for you.  More than likely I kept my head down while walking by you or I just took your innocent question in class as friendly small talk.  Something you’ll learn quickly is that even though I have a solid A-/B+ average in class, I can be a bit slow when it comes to my observation skills.
I also blame it on my inexperience with this whole ‘romance’ thing.  At this point I’ve never been in a serious relationship and, unlike many of my friends from my small town, I didn’t come to college to obtain my Mrs. Degree.  I hate how it is ingrained in young girls’ minds that they need a man to become successful in life.  I can tell you right now that my life is going to be pretty awesome, with or without you. 
That doesn’t mean I won’t depend on you.  I’m going to need you to unscrew the tight caps of peanut butter jars and reach the kind of granola bars I like on the top shelf at Target.  If something like the toilet or sink breaks, you’ll be the first person I yell for.  More than likely I’ll have been the person doing the breaking.  I’ll also need your help when it comes to hard times.  Our life won’t be perfect but if you promise to always be there, I’ll do the same.
I guess you should also know about how I feel on the subject of children.  I worked at a daycare while in High School, and it was unquestionably an interesting experience.  Anytime I approached a child under the age of two, they started to cry as if I was dressed like a clown.  When I was moved to the toddler/preschool room, the crying at me stopped but the whining, biting, and pulling of hair began.  Throughout the year I was faced with the task of cleaning gigantic booger bubbles and poop-smeared works of art on the bathroom wall.  This is what I think about when I imagine tiny you and me’s running around the house. 
That, of course, doesn’t mean I don’t want kids.  I’d love a couple cute little juniors.  I think it might be a good idea to make sure I can keep a fish alive before moving on to another human, however.
There are a few other things you need to know like I only know how to cook a total of three things: bread rolls, garlic parmesan chicken, and ice.  It seems like whenever I try something else I come close to destroying the kitchen.  I also don’t like to clean.  I can and will, but you’ll hear me complain about it during the entire process.
I feel like I’ve spent the majority of this letter warning you about things that I do wrong or ‘differently’.  There are a lot of things that you have to look forward to.  I can promise you that I will love you more than anyone else can.  I also promise to order your favorite take-out when you come home after a bad day.  If something is bothering you, my work will be pushed aside to make sure you’re getting the attention you deserve.  I promise the same to you as I hope you’d promise to me.
            The rest of this letter might seem a bit different than you’re expecting.  Today’s society seems to have hammered into us that a good ‘wife’ needs to be able to cook, clean, and push out children.  It makes us women feel like all of our worth can only come from what a man can do for us.  I’m not asking what you can do for me: I’m asking what we can do for each other. 
            We’re going to be team and the try-out process might be a little difficult.  You’ll do things that piss me off and I’ll do things that make you go bald.  That doesn’t mean we’ll love each other any less.
Most people would end their letter with: “I’m waiting for you”.  Please excuse me while I roll my eyes.  I am not in any way waiting for you.  If you’re expecting me to slow down and wait for you to catch up then you’re just going to fall even farther behind.  I’m not living my life to find you.  I want a husband and a family, but I’m not going to let someone hold me back; especially someone who should be pushing me forward like you.
If you’re reading this and thinking, “There’s no way I’m marrying this crazy lady.”  Then please do me the favor of staying the hell away.  As much as I want someone to share the rest of my life with, I will not settle for someone who doesn’t want or love the person I can and will be.  To put you in perspective; I have no shame in living with a dog for the rest of my life.
                                                            Sent with all the love in the world,

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