Hi, Future Wife.
There’s a certain, distinct shittiness in learning lessons too late.
If you’d known those romantic moments together were so finite, you would have savoured, and not complained about the little things. Irritations are the cat burglar of time.
You would have thanked and appreciated so many things in the moment, and not waited for a future time together that was anything but guaranteed.
I know this all too well.
Man, I would have kissed more.
Guarantees written in whispers aren’t always binding.
They have to be worked on. Constantly. By both.
It’s easy to say that people get busy. It’s easy to say that long days can make you forget all the niceties.
But they should be givens.
They should always be fucking givens.
Flux capacitors are expensive and wormholes are rare and I should spend more time in the moment and less watching movies.
If “thank you”s and “sorry”s fall in a forest…
There’s a thing I say, when a relationship ends, to try to make myself feel better. And, after a while, I do remember it is true.
“You should learn something from every relationship that doesn’t work.”
Because of these things I’ve learned, Future Wife, you will benefit.
You’ll get a better version of me.
I’ll be patient.
I’ll be impressive. The kind that familys approve of, friends are jealous of, and single women hate more than a little bit.
I’ll hug. A lot.
My lips will be on your skin. My shoulder will be under your head. My hands will be on your bum.
I’ll dance. Poorly.
I’ll dry tears of pain.
I’ll create tears of joy.
I’m going to cause laugh lines. And proudly trace them with my finger in a darkened room, on a large couch, near a larger TV.
I’ll have your back. Fully. Completely.
Nary a small thing will be sweated.
We’re all works in progress.
It was the hard way, but that’s how you know the lessons will stick. At first in your craw.
I’m excited. Sort of. In a way. Well, mostly.
I’m excited to put this new knowledge to work. To build stronger. To build bigger.
I’m determined to do a better job. Of appreciating. Of showing.
I’m open. To learning everything possible to make us great.
But you remain elusive. For now.
And so it goes, love.
The ones I had thought were you, were awesome. Truly.
The bar is raised so impossibly high
You must be amazing.
Rest assured I won’t forget to tell you and to show you.