Dear Followers,

It’s been six years of whatsupfuturewife, and I just wanted to thank you. You’ve loved me, encouraged me, and shared parts of yourself with me -- even when you knew the bare minimum about me. Because of you, I’ve enjoyed this journey, and this blog, so very much. You’ve watched me grow from a young ‘un to an adult, and I love you all.

I hope you stick around, even after I find her, this elusive woman we’re all waiting for. Because when I start writing to my wife, instead of my future wife, well... that’s when it’s going to get really good. Speaking of hopes, I hope you’re all being kind to yourselves, and that you’ve got lots of love in your life. If you don’t feel like you do, remember that I love you.

I know it’s not a lot, but I hope it helps -- that there’s someone out there, with more love in their heart than they know what to do with, and that they’re sending some of it your way. Have a wonderful weekend. Thank you, once again, for being there for me, for reading, and responding, and sharing your stories.

Here’s to many more years of us.

Love, Me

Dear Future Wife,

Today, I got an email that reminded me that I’ve been writing to you for six years. Six years is a long time to be writing to someone, but no matter how many years go by, I hope that I never get tired of writing to you. I do hope, however, that Dear Future Wife turns into Dear Wife, because really -- I don’t know if I can wait another six years for you; that’s ages!

I started when I was twenty, fresh-faced and full of dreams and ambition. In these six years, my life has taken me all over the place, through all sorts of twists and turns. I thought you were so many other people, and you weren’t. If there’s anything I’ve learned in these six years, it’s that that’s okay. It’s okay for you not to be those people, because none of them were right for me.

You’re different -- unique, special. We were made for rainy days, huddled together on the beach while our dogs run wild, and warm evenings in, playing board games with our friends, making cocktails that are accidentally too strong, sneaking off to the kitchen to steal a kiss while laughter rings through our house and out of our open windows.

A lot has changed in six years, love; I’m not a student anymore. I have a full-time job. It’s creative, and fun, and so rewarding. It validates me. I spend time with the people I love. Above all, I try and live a full life. My plans and ambitions have changed, too. I’d like to think that I’ve grown, that if you’ve known me all the while, you’re proud of who I am, who I’m trying to be.

Because hey, I might joke that I go to work every day, inspired by Nicki Minaj, but here’s a little secret -- you’re on my mind, whatever I do. It’s for you, because even now, you mean the world to me. It’s for us, for the future we’ll have together, for the family we’ll build. Six years of thinking about you, dreaming about you, holding you in my heart.

Everything I do, all the moves I make -- it’s all for you. You’ll see.

Love, Me

Dear Future Wife,

So... Valentine’s Day -- what are your thoughts on that? We’ll figure it out as we go along, of course, and I’m sure you’ll eventually tell me what you think of Valentine’s Day (hopefully a good few weeks in advance, so that I can plan accordingly). If you were to ask me, I’d tell you that I believe love should be celebrated every day -- not just on anniversaries, or Valentine’s Day.

Still, I’m not going to pretend that seeing that love everywhere doesn’t warm my heart. It does; I’m sappy. I love seeing people happy and in love, and getting little insights into their relationship. I want that, with you. Really, though -- I’m just going to assume that we’re going to have some pretty mixed Valentine’s days together.

Sometimes, we’ll go out, into a throng of other couples, to celebrate our love together at an expensive restaurant where the steak is delicious (and no-one has to cook, or do the washing-up). Other times, we’ll both be exhausted from work, and nothing will sound better than takeout, and Netflix, and collapsing against each other on the couch.

Maybe I’ll cook you a romantic meal to surprise you -- more complicated and flavorful than the simple, easy pasta dishes or the crockpot curries that we’re both used to, perfectly paired with wine, dessert in the oven. Maybe you’ll pin me down the second you walk in, and say, “Fuck the menu, I’d rather have you right now.”

There are some things I know for sure, though. You’ll get flowers at work. On a day that celebrates love, I want to celebrate you; my wife, my lover, my friend, the absolute love of my life. We’ll spend the evening together -- even if I can’t keep my eyes open, and all you want to do is play laser tag... we’re playing laser tag.

Here’s the thing, though: there’s no reason why we shouldn’t be like this on days that aren’t Valentine’s Day. Our love, our mindblowing, amazing, unbelievable, magical love, should be celebrated every day -- even if steak dinners every day are incredibly unhealthy, and laser tag every day would get old, really fast. There are other ways to show you and tell you that I love you.

And believe me, you will be told and shown. Often.

Love, Me

Dear Future Wife,

Hey babe. It's been a while, huh? I'm sorry, really, but I've got a good excuse.

I've started a job that I really like. It's right up my alley; I'm the product editor for an online publication. Apparently, I'm also going to be in some videos, and that kind of thing. It's funny; I've always thought of myself as the brains behind the scene, and now, my face is going to be out there.

I wish you were here so I could show you. I can picture it now -- us, snuggled up in bed. I'm tired (I'm always tired, these days), but holding you feels <i>so good </i>. You kiss my cheek, breath minty-fresh, and ask what I did today.

"Let me show you," I'll tell you, pulling up the video on my phone. I can even hear your delighted little laugh, I can picture how your eyes will sparkle make fun of that one face I didn't intend to pull on camera. You'll know all my little habits -- how I flick my hair out of my eyes, the sound of my laugh when I tell a bad joke.

The hours are long, love, and work is intense. Sometimes, clients are difficult. All I want to be able to do is come home to you. I want to make dinner with you, and hear about your day, and tell you about mine. In your presence, I want to feel the stress of the work day slide off my shoulders.

You make everything better, love. Just the thought of you -- even now, when you're not here -- comforts me. When I'm with you, or you're with me, finally, you're going to see this. "Look," I'll say, "I loved you, and wanted you, even then."

Love,

Me

How old are you?

I’m twenty-five years old. I can slowly feel my metabolism slowing down. Still, I don’t get hangovers, so that’s something to be grateful for.

in your opinion; how do you know when you've found the one?

I thought about this for a while, and honestly, I’d be lying to you if I said that there was a foolproof way to identify that the person you’re with is the one you’re supposed to be with, and you’re going to spend the rest of your lives together. It’s different for everyone, I think – which doesn’t make it easy. There isn’t a way, there isn’t a checklist, so many situations are different.

I could tell you about my cousin, who went out with the same man since they were both eighteen. No matter what happened, they always seemed to find their way back to each other. At thirty-one, they got married. At thirty-five, he cheated on her. They aren’t together anymore, thankfully.Alternatively, I could tell you about my mother, who says she knew my dad was the one when, after one break-up (where my dad went away to university), they got back together. She went to a meal he cooked for her at his family home. At the meal, she was served with silverware reminiscent to the set they’d used on their first-ever date, as teenagers. Apparently, he’d taken her to a posh restaurant, with nice silverware.

When my mom asked him about it, he said that he took it from the restaurant (I am not condoning stealing, but you have to admit… that’s pretty fucking romantic), because he wanted to remember the best date, with the best woman. They’ve been married for almost thirty years now – they bicker, they laugh, they take care of each other. They are solid.

I’ve always thought that my parents do it right. It’s not a question of finding the one, it’s a question of meeting someone you have a spark with, who you’re in love with, and who is in love with you.And then, it’s just the little matter of choosing each other every single day, in good times, and in bad times. It’s wanting to build and grow with each other, it’s being able to express anger, disappointment, and frustration, but then being able to work on it, and fix things together, as a team.I think the one is when you meet someone like that, who is willing to go the distance with you, who sees all of you and loves you just the same (and vice versa). It’s when you’re just as in love – if not moreso – twenty years down the line as when you were when things were new. That’s what the one is.

This is a bit long-winded, but I hope that helps.

Dear Future Wife,

On some Saturday nights, we’ll get dressed up and meet up with our friends. We’ll queue up too long to get into a club where the drinks are overpriced, and the music is too loud, but we’ll have the time of our lives. It’s very likely that we’ll end up drinking more than we should. The end of the night will involve fast food, and an Uber.

On other Saturday nights, it’s you and me, and reservations at a restaurant. Maybe it’s a posh new one that we’ve never been to before; maybe it’s one of our much-loved regular places, where they know us by name, and our orders off by heart. Maybe it’s even lunch and quick drinks at our local, slowed into a lazy evening -- endless pints, tipsy grins, comfort and familiarity.

We’ll have different plans for Saturday nights -- some together, and some alone. The thing is, I already know what my favorite kind of Saturday night is going to be. It’s simple: you and I in sweatpants, curled up on the couch. Our phones are mute, and a massive order of pizza -- far too big for two people to eat in one evening -- is on its way.

I nudge our dogs over to stretch out beside you, handing you an Xbox controller, or a glass of wine, depending on what we’re doing. It doesn’t really matter, because all I know is I’ll end up dozing off with my head in your lap. You’re warm, and you smell nice, and I love when you run your fingers through my hair. On this Saturday night, I am content, and everything is right in my world.

Hopefully, that sounds like paradise to you, too.

Love, Me

Get in the car, we are going to go get married and adopt stray animals

Only if you’re open to getting, like… twenty rescue Pit Bulls, because I have a soft spot for them, and I think they all just deserve good homes.

A good home.

That I will give to them.

Dear Future Wife,

I met my niece for the first time today. She’s four years old, and she is three feet of absolute perfection. It doesn’t matter that I don’t speak a word of German, and that’s all she speaks -- the smiles and giggles she gave me were enough. There was also that moment where she bit my finger, but... y’know. Kids are weird, sometimes.

We had lunch together, and the second I finished eating, she jumped into my lap, and tried to have a conversation with me. Like I said, I don’t speak German, so we spent quite a lot of time on Snapchat. I now have a good number of videos on my phone of this tiny four-year-old in my lap, completely enthralled by the dog filter.

She didn’t want to leave me after lunch, and her father was amazed at this, because apparently, she takes some time to warm up to people she hasn’t met before. If I’m being honest, I’m feeling a conceited right now, because of that. Still, if anything, love, this time spent with her has strengthened my resolve to be a parent one day.

The thing is, I want that with you. I can’t wait to journey through life with you -- love, marriage, parenthood. All of that, with the woman who is guards my heart, heals my soul, calms my mind, and makes our house a home. We’re going to be a fucking amazing team, as a couple, as dog-parents, and as actual parents. We’ll have a blast.

Love, Me

What will you do if it's not at all what you expect?

Hi there, friend. This is a really good question!I think that people should go into relationships with no ridiculous expectations, and their eyes wide open. So often, people romanticize relationships to the point where they expect things to be fine and dandy all the time, and are often shocked when they’re confronted with a tough spot.

Personally, I think that by having no expectations, you’re going to be more prepared for rough patches – they won’t hit you as hard, especially if you and your partner are prepared to talk things through in a manner that is conducive to dealing with the issue at hand. Having no ridiculous expectations also means that surprises, and fun, romantic things are all that much sweeter.

Having been in relationships – good, bad, and ugly – I’d like to think that I learned a lot from each and every one of them. And one of these things is to take each day as it comes, and enjoy the time I spend with my partner. I understand that it’s not all going to be happy days; there will be tears, and arguments, but I think the way you choose to handle these things counts for a lot.

We all have choices, and I will choose to marry a woman who loves me as much as I love her, who wants the best for us, who believes in the love that we have for each other, and who will stick it out when times get hard.I will choose her, every single day of my life – for as long as she will have me – from the moment my heart is hers, until my dying breath.

And really, that’s all I can do.

Dear Followers,

I can’t sleep. If any of you would like to ask me anything, now would be a good time?

Let’s do this.

Love, Me

Dear Future Wife,

Last night, a friend of mine walked into her kitchen to find me making Bechamel sauce for lasagna. I was over at hers to make food, because she’d been ill all weekend, and it had carried on into the week. I had my back turned to her, and was quite happily singing along to Let Me Be Your Girl by Rachael Yamagata -- completely carefree, ridiculous dancing included.

I turned around when I heard her cracking up, wheezing and clutching the edge of the countertop to keep herself from falling over. And then she looked at me, shook her head, and said, “Honestly, any woman would be lucky to have you. You’re sweet, funny, attractive, and ridiculous, but you own it.”

It was an incredibly nice thing to say. It made me smile, and I felt warm inside for hours, when I thought about it. I just hope you feel the same way about me, when you come into my life.

Love, Me

Dear Future Wife,

I had the most amazing dream last night. In my dream, I was sitting in our living room with our kids; we had two little girls -- all dark, bouncy curls, and warm hazel eyes, with the cutest, most heart-melting smiles you could possibly imagine. They were curled up on my lap in the armchair, and I was reading Archer’s Goon by Diana Wynne Jones aloud to them.

I was doing different voices for the characters as I read, really playing it up to elicit little giggles from our squirmy duo. In my dream, I felt happy and content, like I was finally home. There was a chuckle in the doorway, and we turned to see you standing there, leaning against the doorframe. You’d been listening too -- I just didn’t know it.

When I think back to my dream, I think about the look of complete love in your eyes as you watched us. Our daughters squeezed closer, and insisted that we make room for you. You maneuvered yourself into the pile diagonally, your head tucked under my chin, our daughters sitting in your lap, content to cuddle with their parents.

You held the book open for me with one hand, as I cupped our daughters together with my arms, making sure that they were safe and comfortable, that there would be no skinned knees or bruised elbows that night. Your other hand found the back of my neck, gently working out the knots that had formed over the course of the day.

I can’t remember ever feeling so at peace with myself, and my surroundings. I dream of us, and it keeps me going. This is the kind of home I want to build with you -- one of laughter, joy and love, the kind off home where silly voices and endless giggles are heard every night, before bedtime.

I may not know you yet, but I am so ready to fall in love with you, and us, and our life together.

Love, Me

Who are you????? 😍

That would be telling, now, wouldn’t it?!

Dear Future Wife,

You might not realize it at first, but I can be incredibly sappy. I cry whenever I watch videos where dogs have been rescued. I have a soft spot for rescue Pit Bulls, given that I was raised around them. Proposal videos make me smile -- Justin Baldoni’s is one of my favorites; well-crafted and elaborate, if a little long. Rose and Rosie warrant a mention, too.

If you ask me to marry you, there will be tears. If I propose, you might worry that something’s wrong, because I won’t be able to get through my speech. I’ll cry at our wedding. I won’t be able to believe how beautiful you look when you walk down the aisle, and that we’ve come so far in our relationship. My wedding squad will need to have tissues on hand.

I’ll probably tear up again when I say my vows, and when you say yours. I hope our wedding photographer is amazing at photoshop, and has some brilliant filters to work with -- no one wants wedding photographs of their face glistening with tears, their eyes a lovely shade of red. I’m as vain as I am sappy, and I want to look good in the photos, even if I’ve been tearing up all day.

My speech at our reception won’t be on par with Tom Fletcher’s. I’m much more of a writer than I am a musician. But I’m going to get teary-eyed. Yes, again (and hopefully, so will everyone else). No, it won’t be the last time. There will be tears on our first wedding anniversary, during the birth of our children, and, well, pretty much at every milestone we hit.

And that’s okay, because I’m proud of you -- of the person you are, of every single aspect that makes up the woman I love: how professional you are at work, how tender, understanding, and loving you are with our children and our pets, and with me, how you never stop working towards self-improvement, how utterly brilliant you are.

I’m proud of us; how much we would have weathered to be there together, standing in front of the people we love the most, telling each other that we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together, what we mean to each other. A love like ours is one I have wanted and waited for my entire life, and I will be in awe of the fact that it is within my grasp. Finally.

Love, Me

Dear Followers,

Yesterday, I got an email from Tumblr, telling me that whatsupfuturewife has turned five years old. On one hand, I can’t believe that it’s been five years of this -- of writing letters, and pitching them out into the universe, via the internet. Five years of receiving asks that warm my heart, and some that make me tear up. Five years of refusing to give up, and throw in the towel on love.

And on the other hand, I can totally believe it. I’ve been in and out of a number of relationships -- some more serious than others. My heart has been broken, and in turn, I’ve broken a few. I’m not going to lie; on my bad days, the hearts that I’ve broken keep me up at night. I realize that for someone who writes about love, I could have been better at it.

But hey, it’s important to realize that in five years, I’ve grown out of my teens, and I’m about to hit my mid-20′s. For the most part, I can’t believe I’ve made it this far -- that I’m still an eternal optimist, when it comes to love. I’ve lived, I’ve learned, I’ve loved. Some of it, I regret -- even when I try not to. Most of it, I have accepted, and moved on from. 

Sometimes, it felt like I was walking through hell, with no map of it, no way of knowing where the exit was. I’m a big Assassin’s Creed fan -- maps are an important way of navigation in the gaming saga, and in real life. I like knowing where I am. I guess it rings true; if you’re going through hell, keep going.

I’m glad I hung in there -- even on days when I had nothing to put into the universe, I didn’t give up, I didn’t hit Delete. Secretly, I think that I hoped against hope that I’d be able to write again, to sit down and write about how much love I have to give, even especially on days when I felt like I received none.

More than anything, I want to thank you, the person reading this. Thank you for sticking with me, when I was absent for months, too busy and too sad to put the slightest bit of love and positivity into the universe. Thank you for reading this. Thank you for being here. And if you’ve ever sent me a message, thank you.

I read every single one, and keep your words close to me. In a time where we are living in a world with so much hatred, so much anger, and so much pain, I think we could all use a little bit of love. And I will continue to do my best in putting that out there, the way I know how. Thank you for reading this.

Remember that you are loved, and that you are somebody’s idea of a perfect partner.

Love, Me

Dear Future Wife,

In her poem, “Photograph”, Andrea Gibson says, “I think of happy when I think of you.” She couldn’t have said it any better. I think of happy when I think of impromptu dance parties in our kitchen, while we try and hold the food out of the reach of the dogs, but the music is too infectious to ignore.

I think of happy when I think of us decorating our first home together, of your warm, full laugh when I step into the paint, trek it everywhere, and get annoyed at myself, because I am supposed to be good at DIY, god damnit. Of your hand on my arm, reassuring me that it’s okay to laugh it off, that these things happen to the best of us.

I think of happy when I think of holding our child for the first time, one small hand wrapped around my finger, and a smile that could melt even Voldemort’s heart. I think of happy when I think of the warm, safe, beautiful home that we will create for each other, and for our family -- filled with light, and love, and endless amounts of good food and laughter.

I think of happy when I think of taking a nap with you, falling back to sleep on a lazy Sunday morning to the soft cadence of your voice. Of us supporting each other, and succeeding at life -- both as individuals, and together, the ultimate power couple. Of us laughing together in twenty years, as hard as we laughed on our first date.

I think of happy when I think of you.

Love, Me