To the man of my literal dreams,
It’s midnight. I know you think of me as I think of you; when the day shifts into night and your extra pillows are still firm with untouched repetition. You don’t know my name yet, but you will. One day it will accompany that last name you’ve been carrying around so long. I have no idea what you look like, or if I’ll meet you before I’m ten feet in the ground, but I know you exist which is the most exciting part of this adventure. Timing. Luck. Whatever it takes to give us both a moment to shine bright enough to spark each others interest, I wish for that. I wish for that in between my own self exploration and love. I wish for that in between waiting for you and growing alone. They say good things take time, so darling, take your time…for me, for us.
I bet your eyes are glorious, not just in color but in the way they look at the world. You probably can see through stubborn insensitivity, because you’re quick witted and bright. And because I know you’ll love me despite the fact that i’m both.
I bet you haven’t lost your sense of wonder. If we’re meant to be, your soul is as young as mine, but your dreams are as old fashioned as the drink in your hand. I know you’ll want to hear a strangers story, so you can duplicate that ambition, but you’re mindful of the home you so eagerly need to build.
I bet you love a woman with curves. Not because you’re attracted to me just physically, but because my insecurities drive compliments that map out intimacy far beyond the bedroom. We cat and mouse, because there’s not enough playfulness in mature relationships. We are lovers, never fighters, thinking only of each other despite life’s constant temptations.
I bet you’re everybody’s hero. You’re selfless in teaching me to be selfish. I know I make enough mistakes for the both of us, and instead of highlighting my flaws, you embrace the lesson in noticing them. Together we move forward, never backward. You refuse to ever be responsible for my pain.
I bet you love my family, the whole ridiculous lot of them. You probably jokingly extend your condolences when I complain about the lack of mental stability, but at the end of the holiday gatherings you hold my hand as we all warm your heart.
I bet you have a dog of your own. Or at least you love Stella…who’s only job in life was to pick you out of the crapshoot of men I bring home. You include her on our dates, and you let her sleep behind your knees, even on hot summer nights. You love the way she gives you more tongue in our kisses than I do, and I catch you asking her opinion on tie choices.
I bet your hands are full with a job you adore, because you believe in doing everything with passion or not at all. The only thing you’ve ever half assed were the relationships that led up to me. Because somebody knew that you’d need to spend all of your energy on a marriage that felt like the safest place on earth.
I bet you’re tall and humble and never take a day for granted. You’ve probably dealt with a lot of stupid, ridiculous, shit….but at the end of the day you’ll kiss me goodnight…on the extra pillows that are no longer stiff, because I fluff them with anger when we fight. After all, I bet you’re not perfect.
I bet you snore, make decisions quickly and get cranky when your team loses. But above all…
I bet I love you.