Letters to my future husband. #2

Dear future husband,

this week was tough. Maaan. I am confused. I don’t really know where to start. Everything seemed so fine after last Sunday, but there was some baaaad vibin’ out there. Beyond my control really. I hope you had a better week! I need cuddles, lots of cuddles. Hope that writing to you will unveil the secret explanation to me. I mean I would really appreciate some help here. Where are you, really?

Don’t tell me you are the guy, who got the visa now and as you might be returning to the city, we might finally hook up… And please, don’t tell me that you are the rich investor and entrepreneur from overseas, who bought me a bottle of bubbles today. In the store, where I work. He insisted on buying one of the bottles for me, as this was my last day in the shop. (Yes, I do too many things, projects and jobs at the same time, but I am changing this now.) So, yes, I mean, it was kinda cute. And I also was kinda flirting with him - unfortunately not in my very best form and certainly forgetting my actual duty at that point: Instead of asking for the 50-bucks-champagne bottle, I said that I really just liked our house crémant and that he really didn’t need to buy me anything. He seemed a little sleazy. And he could be my grandfather. Very handsome grandfather though, James Dean-kinda-grandfather. Damn, I still have a thing for greasers…

Two out of the three people I actually do listen to, will tell me at that point that I am destroying every romance already by sharing all my thoughts with you. That there needs to be some secrets and mysticism in order to keep it interesting — believe me, there’s still plenty of stuff you don’t know yet. And there will always be. But probably my friends are right. And I might have to learn the hard way, what to share with you and what to only share with my girlfriends — and when to actually just keep my mouth shut at all. I truly hope you’ll stick around for that, once our paths actually did cross.
I guess there will be times when we talk less or I do not share major day things with you. Or vice versa. In the beginning, when you actually will have arrived in my life, I just want to have lots and lots of sex with you. And not that much talking.

I wonder when and how we will meet. Somehow I think it will be very simple, but somehow it will be clear at the very beginning. Know what I mean? This easiness will be beautiful. Maybe it’s not gonna be so romantic, but I prefer this simplicity to meeting in car crash or having month of waiting for you to get divorced after cheating on your wife with me. But I guess, we’ll see. And I guess, in my ideal world, which I am addressing here — because in this world you actually do exist and I can talk to you — you listen to me and are interested in understanding my thoughts. You will become the 4th person whose advice I will listen to. Probably you’ll be the number 1 person I will listen to, to be honest. And you will like it. (And I imagine that you will appreciate my opinion, and the one of your best friend, or something. But in general I have a feeling that you do not need others’ people’s opinion as much as I do. But who knows, what therapy will have brought to my life, when we will meet.)

Okay, listen, before I get tangled up in these now totally irrelevant predictions, let’s focus on what actually happened. Work was good. We had a shit situation to deal with — more precisely we still have to deal with it- but it didn’t kill the vibe. My team is really cool. I am so, so thankful for this fortunate turn in my career. Honestly, I am thankful everyday on my way to work. We are just a super cool team of women.

But this other group of women I joined — holy fuck. Every stupid cliché was proved by us this week. And it is really cool women, of which only one has the gift to be annoying as fuck by knowing everything better. You know what, know that I am writing this to you, it is vanishing. All my anger. All my question marks and thoughts, why she said this and the other one said that, and I didn’t say anything — Buff! It is gone. Interesting really. Focusing on you and imagining you sitting in a chair across the room, leaning back, relaxed with a smile on your face — not one that is provoking me… It actually seems irrelevant to further analyze. It is already said: It happened to be a shity night, totally different from what was planned. The most important reason for that was that one person was annoying as hell and nobody stopped her. The end.

I wonder how these things work in guys groups. Hm. Probably the same. But maybe with much less stress to be perfect in everything.

In weeks like this one, I really can’t wait for you to be here. Just coming home and forgetting the world and being with you, is all I really needed in the past days. Then again, who knows. If your week was shitty as well, you might not have wanted to see me as much as normally and the drama would have been on. Just kidding. I think it wouldn’t be that way with you.

Alright, I will watch an insignificant romantic comedy now and fall asleep. I will have to think about going out on Saturday nights again at some point, I guess… But well there’s lots of traveling and work related presentations and meetings and stuff ahead of me, in the upcoming weeks. Keep your eyes open! Who knows, we might just have a booth next to eachtoher in one of the fairs… No, actually not. You do not work in the same field as I do, I think. But I think you are out there, somewhere further out there, not just around the corner.

Take care. Talk soon. And thanks for listening.

Much love.


A single golf clap? Or a long standing ovation?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.