Romance

A Letter To The Man I Choose To Marry

Dear Future Husband,

I want you—all of you. I want to look into your eyes when I wake up, every day, every night. I want to lie beside you in bed and snuggle for warmth during winters. I want to feel your sleep-laden arms around me, feeling me up in your dreams. I want you to wake me up in the middle of the night to have your fill of me.

I want you—all of you. I want to know the tiny details of your everyday life. I want to know who told you what, who made you feel what, what you saw on the way to work, and what you thought while you nibbled on the sandwich during lunch. I want you to share every single detail of your life, until it becomes mine. All of it, until it fills me up—my body, soul and mind.

I want the security of your arm as my blanket. And I want the freedom of our travels. I want to feel the smooth skin and sooty smell of your body against mine. And I want to feel your lashes blink against my cheeks as you fall asleep.

All this and more, until your life becomes mine, and mine yours.

I want to carry the warm, invisible stamp on me—the mark that says I am a taken woman, owned in entirety. That I’m a woman conquered.

A woman, who finally, willingly, chose to admit defeat and surrendered her life at the feet of happiness, of domesticity. That I’ve been touched so deeply, that no one other touch matters.

I want to love you until you’re my sun, my sin, and my heaven. And I want you to love me back. I want you to smile into my eyes and laugh at my jokes, poor as they may be. I want you to share your dreams and your fears, your likes and your dislikes, the things that you love and those that fill you with awe. And I want to take those and make them mine, until I practically see through your eyes.

You see, I was once a woman who kept a part untouched, hidden away from the world. I was once a woman who sought to hide in frivolous flings, uncaring and distant. I was a woman who didn’t appreciate the full intensity of love. I once ran away from all this.

Not anymore. Not with you.

Today, I want to give you my all, and more. Today, I want to be with you. Today, I am combustible, and only you know how to light me up. Today, I am yours. Today, I am you. TC mark

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A media personnel, who loves writing, reading, editing and gather information. Based in Mumbai. Read more articles from Sandhya on Thought Catalog.