Dear Future Husband,
It’s Valentine’s Day. It’s a day I like to make fun of since I’m here alone and you’re . . . there doing whatever it is you’re doing (torturing me with all this waiting).
Though I am a true and sometimes hopeless romantic, I hope we’ll find romance in the normal, nothing exciting days.
You should always know I love you. I should always know you love me. Why do we have to wait for a specific day to do something special for each other?
Romance looks a little different to everyone. For me, romance is in the quiet, nothing exciting moments like when you bring me a cup of coffee on a day I’m not super excited about getting out of bed.
Or maybe while I’m upstairs giving the kids a bath, you do the dishes – your least favorite task because you love your tired wife. When I find you there doing the dishes, I won’t feel quite as tired because you’re doing this sweet thing for me. I will know you treasure me, even when I’m at the end of a long day.
I love flowers. But a dozen red roses on Valentine’s Day seems like a waste of money. But a pretty bunch of gerbera daises on a random Monday would be amazing. Or daffodils or wildflowers sold at the grocery store – maybe because I had a bad day. Or maybe there’s no reason at all.
Sitting by a fire in our backyard, the white lights you hung up for me (even though you thought it was dumb) twinkle while we sit. With adult beverages in hand we talk about nothing and everything – our norm. And of course, there’s the whole laughter thing. You make me laugh. And making you laugh is one of the best feelings I’ve ever had. For real. It makes me so happy. That’s romance to me. Why? Because you’re my best friend and the love of my life. There is no one I enjoy spending more time with, than you.
Cooking a meal together with candles burning and music playing is romance. I hope you’re a good eater (haha) because I love to cook.
There are countless ways to show our love and respect for each other. I want to date you for the rest of my life. And that means working toward finding new ways to show you how much I love and respect you. I don’t need a date on the calendar to do it.
When I was a little girl, I used to dream up love stories. It’s a curse, I tell you. It has followed me past 40 and right on into my 42nd year. Except now I write the love stories instead of just dreaming of them.
When you write love stories, you should probably find a way to balance that creative, romantic mind of yours with real life. I’d rather not sometimes. Lately I’ve been working hard at this. But failing. Miserably.
The love story I’d write for myself certainly wouldn’t start at 40, 41, or 42. But one thing I know for sure? When it happens, I won’t be giving up easily or throwing in the towel when things get weird and it’s easier to walk away.
The other thing I know for sure? All this waiting has worn me thin and tired at the edges. Worn thin and tired. When you find it and it slips away or you question on the quiet, lonely nights if he’s ever going to show up on your doorstep, you convince yourself to give up. It’s all for the best, dear heart – you say to yourself. And then what? I hang on a little longer, my heart ever hopeful until I am reminded of where I sit and where he sits.
Tonight, after 20 hard days that followed some dark months at the end of last year, my heart is tired. My heart is worn thin & tired, friends. The love story I most want to write won’t float to the surface because my greatest fear lives there.
Worn thin and tired.
Won’t you come home to me now? What’s with this waiting, my dear friend? These are the questions I would ask him if I could. The Goo Goo Dolls have a sweet and light song called “Come to Me.” Ryan Adams has one too {he’s one of my favorites} but it’s a little sadder.
“Come to me my sweetest friend…”
“History is like gravity, it holds you down, away from me”
Here on this edge, this quiet place, where I’m tired of living without him, I’m fighting for hope sitting here in this empty house. Won’t you come to me, my sweetest friend? Sit with me – right here next to me – so we can patch up these worn and frayed edges.
Love,
We don’t need to parse words.
I have had enough of picking words carefully to last a lifetime. You know what not to say.
I’ll say what should be said:
Sometimes, when you argue a point with me, I want to end the argument by kissing you. Because at times, your annoying insistence on being right is also infuriatingly adorable. I know you think you’re rarely wrong. We could argue this point. But I rather enjoy listening to you talk so I’ll just let you say what you have to say. While you’re talking, just be aware that I’m sometimes thinking things like, “I need to kiss him now.” And, “I want to wake up to that face every day for the rest of my days.” And also, “He’s hot.”
Here are some things that we’re just not going to argue about, okay? Let’s agree now that I’m right:
– We will find a way to never go to bed angry. Somehow. Some way. Life is too short. Life changes in an instant. I don’t want our last thought before falling asleep to be one of conflict or anger when God never guarantees us a tomorrow.
– We will never be critical of each other in front of other people. My respect for you will always win, even when I’m madder than hell. I will defend you. I will support you. I may disagree with you. But no one will ever doubt my love and respect for you and your decisions. Please do the same for me.
– When we get married, let’s not get crazy, okay? Let’s stand under a canopy of redwoods with twinkling white lights or barefoot on the beach – focused not on all the stuff that comes with a wedding, but on our vows and the life we are creating.
“For my wedding, I don’t want violins
Or sentimental songs about thick and thin
I want a moment of silence and a moment of prayer
For the love we’ll need to make it in the world out there
To want what I have
To take what I’m given with grace
For this I pray
On my wedding day
On my wedding day”
– Don Henley
– We should have a big family. I’m right about this, Baby. When we’re in our 70’s and the kids all come home for Thanksgiving with their wives and husbands and their kids, it will be amazing. So just trust me on this one.
– We can’t always win the argument. But I promise you that my love for you will always keep me fighting for us when neither of us feel like backing down. Let’s always fight for us.
Dear Future Husband,
I have this weird tendency to spill water or coffee down the front of me when I’m drinking. It’s usually at the worst possible time – like when I’m in a meeting, a formal event, or when I’m trying to appear cool. My Grandpa would have said I had a hole in my chin. He knew because he had one too. It’s usually just water. Unless I’m drinking red wine & wearing a white shirt.
I will often do ridiculous and klutzy things. It’s a gift. I outgrew some of the klutz. But not all of it. It comes out when I’m tired or highly distracted – like when a hot guy {you] is around.
I once went to a reception on Capitol Hill after the Trafficking in Persons Act {2000}, was passed. I was out of place and completely fascinated. I went by myself after being invited by International Justice Mission {I would later work for IJM for a bit}. I do many things by myself because . . . why not? Like go on a wine cruise {with a bunch of annoying couples} down the Trent River. Who does that? Me, apparently.I’d rather do them with you, though.
Speaking of things I’d rather do with you, I have a huge long list. I do things by myself because life is too short not to try things you want to try. But wouldn’t it be nice to hop in the car {together} on Friday after work and drive to Asheville because . . . why not?
You should also know that:
For a few years I’ve written “Dear Future Husband” status updates on Facebook. I find myself humorous. I say things like, “Dear Future Husband, When I’m sick, please make me a hot toddy.”
So I say a lot of silly things but here are a few other things you should know about life with me:
There’s plenty more where that comes from, but that’s what my heart needed to write tonight. Why? Because I miss you & wish you were here next to me. I’m not gonna lie, I’m tired of waiting. So let’s get on with the show, Baby.
It has been a month of Sundays since I’ve done a #SampleSunday post. Here’s an excerpt from my novel, Chasing Hope. You can read what some of my readers had to say about Chasing Hope, here.
You can read other excerpts, here, & here.
Every little girl dreams of her knight in shining armor. I certainly did (okay, I still do). I can honestly remember being in Kindergarten and weaving fairy tales about the man who would fall in love with me and make me his princess. Maybe not literally his princess – but his princess just the same.
I’ve met some men I thought might be him – that proverbial knight. I have fallen in love a few times. But in all three cases, I guess they weren’t the one. Or maybe one of the three could have been. I certainly saw in him the qualities of my particular type of fairy tale.
I think most women who desire to fall in love and get married have their list. This list of qualities they hope to find in this man they’ve dreamt of for so long is obviously different for everyone. My list is personal to me and I have no intention of dragging the entire thing out.
But recently, and I do mean recently, I’ve had to think a little bit more about that list and what is most important to me.
Let’s just establish here, before we go any further, that we’re leaving me out of the equation. I’ll come back to me later. I’m thinking about a series on the “Proverbs 31” woman. I have a whole long list of qualities I want to exhibit and some I think I do already.
But this fairy tale? This knight in shining armor? What does he look like?
This fairy tale? It has eluded me so far. But I still pray for him. I still think about getting married. I don’t dream of fancy weddings that cost thousands of dollars. I dream of a quiet wedding on the beach or in the tiny chapel in my hometown. The wedding is not the thing. What is the thing, is two people standing before God and those closest to them – committing to love and honor each other, always.
I still dream of the fairy tale. I pray for the fairy tale. It may not look like your fairy tale. And it certainly isn’t like the fairy tales we read about or see played out in movies. But it’s still my dream.
It feels very unlikely during times like I’ve had recently. And yet, the hope doesn’t quite die. Wherever this hilarious, tender man (who loves football) is, I hope I run into him soon. And I hope he chooses me. He won’t regret that decision.
