A Letter To My Future Lover

I always think about the day I’ll meet you.

I wonder what I’ll be wearing, what that day will look like, and how the pieces will fall together. I wonder what street I’ll be walking on, what indie ballad I’ll be listening to, and which gold earrings will drape onto my neck. I wonder if our meeting will be loud and intense or if you’ll slowly find your way into my life as if you had been there all along.

I wonder how our conversation will start, how the words will fill the air and leave my anxious mind to yours. I wonder what you’ll think of my crooked smile, or the small hole in my teeth, or the way I tuck my toes when I’m talking. I wonder if you’ll notice the way my hands shake or the way my words stumble when I’m trying to put a perfect sentence together.

I wonder if our love will be strong and forceful or gracious and delicate.

I wonder if we’ll love the same music or if you’ll show me a world of lyrics unknown by me. I wonder if our love will move slowly, or guide rapidly through trenches of doubt, and fear.

To whoever you are, wherever you are, I want to love you with everything I have. 

I want to love you through my anxious nights, through my depressive episodes, through the joy of my written words.

I want to love every piece of you, your entire soul, your entire being.

I want to know about that time in sixth grade that you lost your mom and you cried for weeks. I want to know about the time you put everyone else’s opinions aside and started following your dreams. I just want to be there in those moments and tell you how much I love you.

I want to love you through your flaws, your weaknesses, your darkest moments, and your tiniest victories. I want to cry with you when you lose your job and scream with you when you finally see your dream band in concert. I want to hold your hand through the flame of relentless grief, and I want to kiss you every night with the love you deserve.

I want all of your wholeness, brokenness, hurt, and healing.

I want your gratitude at the sunset and your disappointment in the rain. I want your tangled words and mixed up feelings. I want your favorite 2 a.m. song and to know the way you like your body traced.

I promise you with all that I have that I’ll love the hell out of you.

I’ll tell you about my broken pieces and my healing. I’ll explain my darkest moments and my tiniest victories. I’ll give you everything that my soul has to offer, and it won’t be perfect, and it won’t be a disaster. It will just be mine, and I’ll just be giving it to you. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

About the author

Isabella Housel

A girl obsessed with words trying to navigate through the world.