Dear Future Husband,
It’s been a year since I started writing and well, you’re still somewhere trippin’ and not here. I stopped writing you a long time ago because honestly, I kinda stopped thinking about you. I know, I know. You’re probably saying, “Oh, you’re just gonna give up on me like that?” and the answer is yes, yes I am. You’ve had plenty of time and opportunity to show up. Also, it hasn’t hurt that one of my friends, who’s already been married twice and is obsessed with finding a third husband, relocated out of state so is no longer around to constantly bring up the issue of men and marriage. So you just haven’t been my primary focus lately.
Actually, I did attempt to write you back in April. I wanted to talk about love languages. Wondering if you know what yours is and if your primary love language is the same as mine, Acts of Service. What I learned from my last relationship (don’t worry you’ll learn more about that later) is that when you share the same language, loving the other person doesn’t really feel like work at all. It comes naturally because you love the way you want to be loved. But what happens when the love language is different? My guess is that it feels like a stretch assignment for which you weren’t quite ready to perform. Hey, perhaps that’s why we haven’t come into each other’s lives yet. Maybe I’m not ready to do the work required to love someone who doesn’t love like I love, or maybe…you’re not.
Well, until we meet,