With no doubt I’m sure I’ve been labelled a number of monikers for my back to back love related entries. I had to hold back this post for a while as I tried to find something anti–love, so to speak. In fact while facing this severe writer’s block (yeah, I’m a writer!) I sought guidance from a male friend, who then shamelessly suggested I write what I know about; “boys!” eh! I have so much to say about this input but I’ll save that up for another day. And to further infuriate the apathetic readers I will do just that. However, I promise to find something else that deserves literary acclaim for next time. Thing is, we are all on a pursuit of happiness…right? Well 6 out of 10 of people who face unhappiness in their love lives also suffer the same in other areas of their life. (Fictitious statistic but none the less true for this blog)
I am a hopeless romantic, but get this; I am more of a realist in this area. Ergo I keep my romanticism to stories and movies. Call me a cynic, but it’s nice this way; you can’t be the protagonist and the writer. Now to the point; what is art if you don’t put a bit of yourself in its birth? I know I’m going to regret this but here goes…today I bring you some mushy shit; don’t say I don’t feel like the rest of you “normal” people do. Bring out the pitch forks and torches. I decided to write off my head(read as heart) for this one…i plan on reading through it in the future!
To my future husband
I know it’ll be a long way before I settle down. Before I stop ranting about how men are worthless. But I’ll get there. I thought you would understand me better if you heard from 20 year old me. Only because i wouldn’t want you to see me this way. To have to put up with an indecisive female that’s slightly bipolar and most definitely psychotic. To see my pathetic days when I call up a lost love and take a not so pleasant walk down memory lane. When I drink so much I stay in bed all day the day after. I wouldn’t want you to hear the things people say about me now. How I’m having a rough patch with my faith and school. I’ve made mistakes and I have many more to come, let’s call it fate. As I speak, I have no desire to get married but I’m sure you’ll change that. I don’t know who you are, but I hope you’re the first boy that called me beautiful and stared at my face for hours or the one that fell in love with my mind before anything else. I hope you are a man of God so that you’ll hold my hand when I stumble. My friends make fun of me that you’re out there leaving a trail of hearts. And that’s okay…we all learn how to love some way. I hope you’ll make me want to have children…better yet you might not want any. Let’s get a puppy and name it Chewy.
I know the core of our existence is forgiveness but I hope you are not the first one that broke my heart. That made me foolishly believe men are worthless. If you are I pray you have transformed, not by my hand but by the Holy Spirit. You are not my first love but you’ll be my first true one, and the last one. Maybe I’ll be a lawyer some day and I hope the fights never come down to divorce. I hope my family will love you, especially my brother! I hope for so much but I just hope that you come with the key to my happiness. I gave the abstract nature of my writing a break for this. Just so that I could simply say that although I am surely different, my heart is like any other.
From a girl that will love you some day.
I’m sure that only 5% of the men got through that but it had to be done. The one time I watched Oprah (yes it was ONE time) I stumbled upon this episode about this woman that wrote a list of what she wanted her future husband to be like and years after she got married she gave it a second look only to find that he had most of the qualities that mattered to her. So take some time today and write that list, if not for you, then for me (to make me feel less foolish)