Dear Future Husband

It’s around that time of the year again. My birthday is coming up which means it marks a year since the day I was supposed to get married. I was engaged once. It didn’t work out.

When the break up happened, everything was very sudden. Life changed in 8 very short hours. At the time, I was positively sure that everything–the entire world–was coming to an end. 

I am thankful and extremely blessed that it didn’t. 

The ending of that chapter opened a new chapter…no, a new BOOK, of new experiences for me: figuring out who I am as a woman. And adult. Finding out what I want. Discovering what I won’t tolerate. 

Things are different when you’re a grown up. 

As I enter into my “late-twenties” as everyone is reminding me these days, a lot of my friends are sporting some pretty sweet jewelry on their left ring fingers and my fridge is covered in wedding and birth announcements. 

I swear I’m really happy for y’all, but sometimes I feel like this girl. Source.

I haven’t found “the one” yet. Or maybe I have and I don’t know it. Knowing me, he passed me as I tripped and fell over my own feet and spilled macaroni on my shirt walking out of Pluckers. 
Hypothetical situation.
Just kidding. That really did happen and I had to throw my shirt away because the stain REFUSED to come out. Still bitter about it.

So in case you’re out there and you’re reading this, here it goes:

Dear future husband,

We haven’t met yet (I don’t think) but I really hope you’re out there somewhere. I hope you’re the guy that says he wants a girl “just like” me and actually means it. I’m a really strong person and I want to be strong for you. I want to be the woman you can lean on and depend on to take care of us like I depend on you. I pray that you’re the type of person who likes to see the good in other people. I hope that you give aid to those who need it. I hope that you’re funny. Like, laugh out loud, make me pee my pants funny. I hope that you like that I like 80’s John Hughes movies even though you pretend that you don’t. I hope that you’re the kind of guy that is comfortable spending a night in, reading books on the couch and is okay going for beers with my friends. I hope you’re the kind of guy that values his guy friends and wants to spend time with them–I need my private time! I sincerely hope that you’re the kind of person that believes me when I show you who I am. I hope that you believe–like me–that words are valuable and you should be careful which words you choose. They might be the last ones you ever get to say to a person. I hope you were raised by a family that loved you so much that you can’t help but love others. I hope that you go to the ranch with my daddy and work the land. I hope you’re a Saints fan, but if you aren’t, I pray that you’re at least a football fan. I can deal with a house divided. I really pray that you aren’t a ‘Bama fan because, well, if you are…Sugar, this probably isn’t gonna work out. I hope you’ll tolerate my singing and be silly with me. I really look forward to going on adventures with you–wherever they may take us. I hope you’ll find the beauty in history and find potential in things left abandoned. I need you to reel me in when I go too far off course but always support my ambitions and dreams. I promise to be your loudest cheerleader and I hope you’ll be mine. I hope you’ll be a safe place where I can put my faith. I pray that you’re a forgiving person–I am far from perfect. I can be stubborn, sometimes insensitive, and completely nonsensical. I say what I mean and mean what I say and sometimes it doesn’t have the intended effect. I hope you’ll appreciate love notes left around the house and kisses on the jawbone when you take out the trash. 
Most of all, I hope you’ll marry me knowing that marriage and creating a family is hard. It takes work everyday. Loving each other is a wonderful thing, but in order to live happily ever after, we have to redefine our happiness together everyday. Somedays happy will be as simple as eating pizza sitting on unpacked moving boxes, other days it will be being thankful we didn’t kill each other. But we made it work. Because we said vows ‘n’ shit and we meant ’em.  

Because, future husband, there’s no one I’d rather drink coffee with in the morning, cook bacon for at midnight, yell at for leaving the toilet seat up, pick up bath towels after, or be more proud to say I’m married to. 

So, if you’re out there, I am really excited to meet you. And if I already met you…what the hell have you been waiting on?!


PS: I love yellow roses and there’s not many arguments that a slow dance in the living room can’t fix. And before you ask me to be your wife, ask my daddy first. But if you’re “the one”, I’d bet top to toenails that you already knew that.

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