To my future spouse.
I often wonder how we fit together. How proportionate our bodies will be next to each other. When I wrap my arms around you will it be at your waist? Your ribs? That little space in between? Will you have blue eyes? Brown? Hazel? Will you have freckles on the bridge of your nose? Or just random ones all around your body?
Do you have any scars? If you do will you share the stories of how you got them with me? Will you trust me with the history of your being?
Will you share every significant memory with me? The good and the bad? I want to know everything that made you into the person you are.
I wanna know your deepest fears, your biggest flaws, your proudest talents. I wanna recognize the sound of your footsteps from the other room. I wanna know how the exchange of your weight from heel to ball if your foot sounds like. I wanna be able to pick it out of a crowded room.
I wanna know how you drink your coffee, or your tea. Or just water. Do you like it with lots of ice, a little, or none at all?
Do you like chocolate or vanilla better?
I wanna hear you say my name. And when you say it, how does it taste in your mouth? Does it feel like the name that has always been on the tip of your tongue? The name that you’re meant to say for the rest of your life?
I wanna know how your jeans fit. How a shirt rests on your skin.
I wanna memorize every inch of your body. I wanna know every wrinkle of your nose and forehead. I wanna know every hair on your head.
I wanna know you so completely that I could sense when you’re upset before you even enter a room.
I wanna love you. Wholly. Unconditionally. Completely.