So, I love music. I do. I listen to it all day long.
And sometimes (often) I get the overwhelming urge to share this music. As my friends, who some days get a half dozen invitations to download shit from dropbox, can attest to.
I want someone who doesn’t mind random songs appearing in her inbox throughout the day. Someone who doesn’t need an explanation as to why each song is awesome.
Someone who just loves that a certain song made me think of her.
Like if it’s 2:45 pm on a rainy Wednesday and I feel that you absolutely NEED to hear Paul Westerberg’s “Waiting For Somebody,” I want to be able to just send it over to you.
But here’s the thing:
I want you to love it too.
And I’ll be completely confused if you don’t.
Actually this is more of a general thing with me. I was telling a friend last night that I am kind of demanding. (In a “sure you adore me, but do you adore me enough?” kind of way.)
I’ll expect you to be excited by what excites me.
I won’t be angry if you aren’t, I’ll just be… baffled.
My demandingness comes out in other ways too. For example, if I like you, I’ll do anything for you.
But if I ask you to do something and you don’t…
It’s like a personal affront.
Largely because I hate asking anyone for anything at any time.
Also if you tell me you are going to do something and then don’t…
And I’ll still remember it seven years later.
It’s not all word doodles and Canadian charm, my lovely little future wife.
On the plus side, things are very unlikely to escalate into a fight.
I don’t really fight.
In fact I am pretty decent at defusing most couple-y disagreements.
I’ll listen — really listen — to your side. I’ll explain my side calmly and without using words or phrases that might exacerbate the situation. (“Sure I was looking at your friend’s ass, but it’s a great ass!”) I’ll give you space. I’ll use humour.
And I’ll still always hug you, even if I’m mad.
But, really, you might as well just love “Waiting for Somebody.” It’ll be easier on all of us.
– ps I decided to make you a mix CD, FW. I wanted to call it “A Present of Songs from the Past for Future Wife.” But then realized that some of the songs are current. And that the title sucks. Instead I am calling it “Lady Gaga’s Vagina: War Criminal or No?” Yes I am. And it’s not really a CD. You can download it from dropbox. E-mail me for an invite. (Same goes for the rest of you nosypantses reading this letter that isn’t addressed to you.)