I’ve resigned myself to dying alone.  I realize that you, My Future Wife may just be just some idea I’ve imagined in my head… a flickering shadow I’ve pursued through this vast and winding maze until I’ve been’ inexorably lost.  With neither breadcrumbs nor chalk-marks to find my way back, there is no direction but one foot ahead the last.  

What, ho?  There is such a long way to – go.    

And this long walk is penance for a lifetime of broken hearts and battered doors’ from rapacious knuckles and hasty steps across scuffed floors.  My hard heels clicking on the cobblestones with my collar pulled high, past all the healthy hearth-lit homes with candlelight’ dancing in windows– places where I could’ve been.  

It’s not the chill that kills me, it’s not knowing whether the weather is ever going to change.  Wondering, if I’ll ever get out of this rain.  

What, ho?  There is such a long way to – go.

Bump it with:

The Last One Found

I go into this new year, with hope.  

I  believe that life is getting better, that my best adventures are still ahead of me, and this journey is just beginning.   I believe the love I’ve shared were all just precursors to something greater.  And I will count my scars and be grateful someone cared enough to go that deep.  I hope that I will find you soon.  Because I’ve been living my whole life to be in love.   I know, that’s a stupid thing to say but before I could remember wanting to be a lawyer, or a writer, or anything in between… I remember wanting to have someone.  I’ve been on an endless game of hide-and-seek’ and all the other kids have all been found and are already eating their cake.  I’m the only one left wandering the halls and looking under stairs…  but if I’m still here then it means you’re still looking.  With those bright eyes– come find me.  


Bump it with:

The Bridge of Closed Doors

I’ve closed doors that can never be reopened, and on the other side are the unborn ghosts of a lifetime together; big house, big dogs, children, and laughter.   But I know, She goes on to find someone better, to grow old with someone who can cherish her in a way I could never.  And in a way, I did that, with a graceful bow and a sidestep through the curtain, and I’m certain I’ll never be at this point again.  And it’s just as well.  Sad smile, exit left.  Chin up.  No regrets.  

I pull down each closed door and stack them one upon the other on the floor.  Each one raises me higher and takes me a bit further– planks for me to walk, out over uncharted seas in an an ever growing arc of my history, of who I was leading to who I could be.  But eventually it’s no longer one more step’  over the restless black abyss, until we plummet to our death… no it was that last moment until our long lonely walks– intersect.  And our feet are steady, and the wood holds fast.  A bridge.  Abridged. We meet– at last.

Bump it with:

Letters to my future Wife: Through the view-finder

In this moment, we are strangers.  You, are just an idea in my head: blurry and out of focus, far off and in the distance.  And I would run without sleep or rest’ from here until the moment our lives meet and intersect– if I could see you or if it meant’ I could be with you any quicker.  

But in this moment, we are strangers.  Your name has never graced my lips, we have yet to share our first kiss.  I’ve yet to brush the hair from your eyes, I’ve yet to make you breakfast in bed.  Ahead of us, are nights where we fall asleep next to each other like two Twix in a wrapper, and I wake entangled and enthralled with your face inches from mine.  Ahead of us, are a thousand little talks, where I’m smitten by your clever words and turn of phrase.    Ahead of us are passionate nights, and sun soaked days.   Ahead of us, are a million four-legged-steps, hand in hand as we traverse sandy beaches, and shopping malls, salsa two-step while I step on you with my two left’  “oops sorry” and slow-dance through weddings, and parties, and banquet halls.  Ahead of us is our first home purchase, and me rubbing your swollen stomach every day before the birth of our first kid.

Ahead of us are trials and tribulations, like when I compare you to your mother, though you know I love her and I say things without thinking sometimes.  Because you know that this mouth of mine runs afoul with the taste of foot’ every now and again, but I make up for it’ in the long view– I’m good for you, for every moment when you needed me I was there, with the right words at the right time, and the right arms and the right life — and before the lights go out I’m forgiven and we’re living in linen and in love.

But in this moment, we are strangers.  And I can’t wait to meet you.  But it seems I’m going to have to.

Or maybe, just maybe… I already have.

Letters to my future Wife: The Man I Will Be

I started writing this on a crumpled napkin in my car, sitting in the parking lot after work:

I realized the failings of this past relationship were my fault.  I was not strong enough to ask for what I needed, and to leave when she could not provide it.  So we fought, hungry and angry making demands only to be met with disappointment.  We loved each other so much, but were too blind to see how bad we were together.

I deserve someone who doesn’t cheat on me.  I deserve someone who is proud to have me as their boyfriend.  I deserve someone who will not ignore me when I am in need. I deserve someone who will not throw me away so casually: someone whose love outweighs her anger.  I deserve someone that carries in their heart, Me at my best, and forgives the me at my worst.  I deserve love.  Real love.

And in return, I promise you, whoever you are:

I will be the kind of man you want your father to meet, and the kind of man you want your sons to grow up to be.  I will be the kind of man who provides for his family not just by working, but by cooking, and by being an equal partner in the household.   I will be a man strong enough to protect you, but gentle enough to hold you.  I will be a man who reads to our children every night, a man who goes to every play, every game, every recital, and takes off from work to chaperone field trips.  I will be the type of man who treats your parents as if they were my own.  I will be a man who admits to my mistakes, and apologizes when I know I’m wrong.  I will put your feelings before mine, because I know you’re doing the same for me.  I will tell you everything, my fears, my worst mistakes, so you may know me, and so you may love me entirely.

I am not that man yet.  Not even remotely close.  But when I get there… just you wait.  I will earn the rest of your life, and you—the rest of mine.