Thursday, 15 September 2011
A note to the man I'm going to one day marry....
Dear Future Husband,
It's me, your future wife (obviously.) And before you say anything, I know this is lame. But I'd prefer to refer to it as a little piece of history. After all, I've been thinking about you since this date, and I doubt you will ever be able to repay that favour. ;)
I'm assuming, if I'm showing you this, that you are sarcastic, witty, charming, romantic, sweet, ambitious, creative, spontaneous, optimistic, and that you like eye baths, long walks along the beach, and lazy Sundays as much as I do (just a few of the groom criteria I so strictly stand by). I'm also assuming that you've just proposed (if you have, I'm hoping you managed to make me cry, as well as the special ladies involved in the subsequent hysterical phone calls). However, don't be surprised if we're already married. After all, I'm wildly in love with you, and most definitely don't want to put you off before I get the chance to go all Bridezilla on you. Believe me, I will.
It might all be about gazing at my engagement ring and shrieking every five seconds in excitement right now, but as soon as we get down to the nitty-gritty of finding the perfect country venue, dresses, guest lists, table decorations, favours and the rest, I will be absolutely insistent that everything is done my way, and you will definitely contemplate your decision to marry me. In fact, you'll contemplate it so much that one day you'll phone me up drunk and tell me that I've turned into a monster. I will tell you now, that said phone call will not go down well, and I will probably not wash your boxers for a whole week in an angry rage. Instead, I suggest that you wine me and dine me, take me to a gorgeous hotel, and casually tell me how you feel during a game of crazy golf on the seafront the next day. I won't react I promise, and you'll never know that this is because I wasn't listening to you.
We will get married, and as soon as we are, I promise I'll be that same girl you proposed too until we're 94. After that point, I will spend my days eating buttered crumpets, falling asleep mid-conversation, and getting annoyed when our beautiful Grandchildren beat me at Scrabble.
But I will love you, and I will love you endlessly. I don't know who you are the time of writing, and I don't think I will for a while yet, but I'm excited to see how the future pans out, and if I haven't met you yet, I'm beyond excited for the day that you come into my life.
And I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you, for making all the disappointing dates and the failed relationships worth it. After all, without them, I would never have known what I was looking for in you. And without you, I'd have no-one to drag around endless antique shops, no-one to reach the top shelves in the supermarket, and no-one to pretend that the 6 stone I've put on since writing this is the most attractive thing you've ever seen in your life.
It feels weird writing I love you to a potentially non-existent human being, but I will write it in hope that you, my future husband, are a human being (who wears amazing aftershave and puts up with my endless waffle), and not just a inconsequential dream that results in me playing Scrabble alone.
I can't wait to see you at the end of the aisle, and spend the rest of my life loving you. (On the condition that your shirt is tucked in properly on the big day, obviously.)
Until then, be happy, have fun, kiss every beautiful woman that you wish to, and gather a thousand amazing stories to tell me. You could also start looking for a really, flashy watch. They make me go weak.
All my love, Kathy xXx
PS- If you're reading this right now, feel free to tell me that this is the loveliest/oddest thing that anyone's ever done for you.
PPS- Have you done the hoovering?