Dear future husband,
If you’re going to fall in love with me, you have to know my little quirks and eccentricities. You have to know that my body can never get accustomed to the wintry coldness. I may plead for hugs and cuddles more than once before I can settle down and doze off to dreamland. You have to know that I have an enormous tendency to hog all the covers. You have to know that our bed will indefinitely be littered with notebooks filled with scribbles of mundane thoughts, books from varying authors and chocolates under my pillow. You have to know that I belt off songs in the midst of complete and utter silence, my tone deaf voice reverberating through the somber hollows of our home. You have to know that I rarely, if ever, eat fish.
You have to know that I have knobby knees and manly hands and a nearly incomprehensible handwriting. You have to know that I can never sleep without a blanket, less of a habit than the apprehension formed from the monsters that I imagined once lurked under my bed. You have to know that no matter how hard I try, I will never acquire any talent for music. You have to know that I have a self deprecating sense of humor with little vestiges of sarcasm here and there. You have to know that I am prone to nagging and the temperaments of a fickle child. You have to know that I am possessive and slightly jealous, afraid you would wake up one day and realize that I may no longer be worth it, where your face that was once superfluous of love will become contorted with pain and discontent.
You have to know that I will finish reading books with tears or an empty gaze robbed of nothing and everything. When you see me in that state, please hold me, just hold me. I may end up a wanderlust in my own thoughts but I will be whisked back to reality, yearning for your affection more than ever. You have to know that my attention span is short, that I may search for your eyes imploringly, if only to let you know that you lost me to daydreams somewhere in the last few minutes of our tete-a-tete. You have to know that I will write about you, the things you did and the things you didn’t do. My readers will know you by heart through words and sentences and winding paragraphs of our moments together.
You have to know that my closet is a cluttered mess and that I sprinkle too much salt on my french fries. You have to know that I am extremely self-conscious, tremendously awkward and inevitably monotonous. You have to know that I have an affinity for zombies and serial killers and Japanese manga. You have to know that I would rather stay at home, hair a ridiculous mess, popcorn on my lap and a movie playing in front of me than go out.
All these things make up who I am, the past, the present and the future colliding in steadfast slivers of your future wife. Please love those parts of me and embrace them completely. One day, I’m going to show you I’m worth it.
See you in the future.
your future wife
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