Dear future husband,
I’ve said time and time again that I will not be dating until I’m twenty five, which is roughly three years from now. To tell you the truth, I’m quivering in my shoes and scared out of my wits. I’m scared because when the time comes, you may no longer be there anymore, because maybe you were exhausted of being alone, of waiting for what seemed like a hopeless case.
I wouldn’t blame you at all.
I’m a mess, and I still am. There is a lot of darkness lurking in me that I haven’t conquered yet, that I’m afraid of conquering either way. See? Aside from being antisocial and a borderline lunatic, I’m also the classic coward. But I’m hoping against hope that you’re still waiting by the end of the road, that you’re standing there and looking at me like I’m no longer teeming with darkness but with light, some unfathomable, iridescent light.
I need to work on me before I’m ready for you, for us. I know I’ve said this more than twice but I can’t wait to meet you. I just hope you’re still waiting to meet me too.
So see you in the future.
your future wife