This post marks the 50th post of my blog. Thank you all so much for reading! To mark the celebration of it (and what seems to be everyone I know getting married), I want to diverge from the usual paradigm of LOVEanon. I want to do something for a special someone. I don't necessarily know her (yet), but the title says it all. I want to share with you something I've been writing on napkins and loose paper. A lot of people have asked why I wrote this or what inspired me, and really, it was quite impulsive. But among the many reasons, I just hope it inspires people to believe in love and have that very same thing: hope.
This one's for her.
Good morning Beautiful.
I dream of the day when I can roll over, say those words, and look at you with the ever most tender eyes. Then, as I lie there and stare at you, you'll lethargically hit me with your pillow, and tell me to go back to sleep because there's still 15 minutes until the alarm goes off.
I imagine that's what will happen anyway. Would that be ok? Don't worry, I'd pretend I'm going back to bed, but I'll secretly (or not so secretly) get out of bed just to be able to put the coffee on for you, and wake you up to 100% Arabica instead of an annoying clock.
Would it be ok if I told you I've wanted to do that for as long as I can remember?
Would it be ok if I told you I think about you?
Would it be ok if I told you I really just wish I could hold your hand?
Would it be ok if I told you that I can't wait for the day that you run your fingers through my hair? I hope I still have some when we meet.
And even though I don't know your face, is it ok that I already love you? That I already adore you?
Sweetheart, do you ever think of me?
Sometimes I'm staring out the window when I'm driving, and I wonder what you're doing. Are you driving too? Where are you going? Maybe you'll tell me one day. About that crazy night you had in some far off place. Or that "Scumbag Steve" that was hitting on you who smelled like cheap cologne, loneliness, and bad decisions.
Don't worry Honey, I don't wear cologne (though, if you were to buy me some you like, I'll take the hint).
I wonder where you are right now. What are you doing? Will you ever read this post? You know, just throwin' this out there, but you should totally read my blog!
Would it be ok if I dream of the day that I get to hold our first child in my arms? And as it stares up at me with your beautiful eyes, I can't help but be overwhelmed by the wonder we've created. And even though you want to kill me for putting you through the pains of labor, with beads of sweat rolling down your face, you see the way I'm looking at this tiny angel, and you can't help but fall in love with me again. "That's him," you say. "That's my guy, the man of my life."
And, Mon Amour, is it ok that I really can't wait to have so much fun with you? Make you laugh? Make you soup when you are sick? Sing to you, serenade you? Buy medicine when you have bad stomach cramps? Tell you how beautiful you are? Show you just how romantic I am capable of being?
Will you let me take care of you? I know you'll take care of me.
Is it ok that when I think of taking you by the hand, and walking on the shoreline in the sand, under the stars, in the moonlight...
Is it ok that nothing else could make me happier?
Would you ever deny me such happiness?
And what will you say to me when I tell you that everything I've ever done, every decision I've made, every lesson learned, every place I've gone, my entire life...
What will you say when I tell you it was all for you?
That when someone asks me, "why?" the answer will be a resounding, "you?"
And what will you say when I tell you that all of the libraries on this Earth cannot possibly hold all of the volumes of books that I could write filled with the intricate descriptions of your beauty and my feelings for you?
I can't wait for the day that I can transform hours into ours.
How long must I wait? For you, forever is ok.
And when we live together, side-by-side, hand-in-hand, can kisses be our currency? And hugs our credit?
My Love, I hope you think I'm responsible, that I'm a good lover. That I'm loving enough. Nothing is too much for you.
I hope you think I'm kind and compassionate. Maybe if I'm not, you can help me be better: more positive, more empathetic.
I really hope you think I'm good-looking!
And a good confidant.
Someone who is trustworthy, and loyal, and honest, and respectful of you. Will you let me in? Will you tell me all of your deepest, darkest secrets? Without fear? I will. I'll tell you everything.
And I hope we will root our relationship in love,
I hope we challenge each other, offer new perspectives. But I also know that when I imagine myself speaking to a crowd, you’ll be right there watching me, filling me with confidence and pride, knowing regardless of how the room responds, you’ll be there for me.
And I will do the same for you. I can’t wait to look at you, see what you’ve accomplished, and say these six words: I am so proud of you.
And one day when we're out celebrating or having a good night, I hope you'll let me hold your hair back if you're drunk and get sick because somehow, for some reason, I think that's more intimate than a blowjob!
But I also hope that you know the world, that you've learned to think, and challenge, and live on your own: cook a meal, flirt, buy a plane ticket (or many), understand the system. I hope you've had good sex, and bad sex, and OK sex, and loved, and trusted, and had your heart broken only to be mended by your own strength and growth and development. And known what it's like to be alone as well as known what it's like to feel appreciated; accepted; included. I hope you've voiced your opinions, stood up for what you believe in, argued to the early hours of the morning about the things you are passionate about, thought critically about your thinking. Come to terms with your parents, and love them even for their mistakes. Understood that growing up is a hard thing to do, but know that you can get through it, and have the confidence to still look at the world with a positive attitude, and find peace and happiness.
I hope you think that, although you've gotten this far, imagine what we can do together.
That is why Baby, I miss you, I long for you...
Do you ever miss me? I really miss you, so much. On those nights when I want to slow dance, and no one will accept. No one will dance with me. No one will come into my space, saturated with intimacy, and just sway with me.
I miss you on those days when I need a hug, or love, or when I just feel like crying. I know you'd be there for me. I'd be there for you too.
I miss you when no one laughs at one of my stupid jokes, because I know you always will (even when it's really bad, if anything, just because you want to make me feel good).
I miss you when I'm hurt, when I'm sad. When I have a difficult decision to make, and I need advice--especially when it may be a decision that one-day affects you.
I miss you when I need some reassurance, when I'm contemplating if I've done the right thing. Or when I need someone to put me in my place. Or when I've done something stupid, and I need someone to remind me of how dumb that was--even though you may have been right there beside me doing it as well.
Maybe it's selfish, but I miss you on those lonely nights, when all I want is to hold you. Sometimes they come more often than I'd like.
And I miss you when I think about getting older. I hope you'll still think I'm sexy when I'm old and wrinkly. Don't worry though, honey, I'll go to the gym. Not just for my heart, my health, and the sake of the kids, but just to make sure that you notice me while I'm undressing to get in the shower. And then you'll laugh and blush when I notice you looking, and invite you to join.
I know, I know, it depends on if you're late for work, or if the kids are in school...
How much of this is just fantasy in my head? I mean, do you even like coffee!? If not, it's ok. I'll make tea.
Milk or no milk?
Sugar or no sugar?
(I like tea, not coffee. But I'll always make sure I have some ready if you do).
Whatever the case, I really hope you're happy. God, I'd give anything to make you smile... and I will! My heart? My trust? My love, my affection? My whole life? No problem. It's yours.
I just hope at this very moment you're smiling, no matter where you are.
And if you're dating someone right now, I hope he's nice and good to you, treats you well. But I hope he's not too nice, because then you won't date me! Ok, just kidding, but really, I hope you just realize he isn't right for you (because OBVIOUSLY, I am).
But all kidding aside, I hope you aren't pained. I hope you haven't been hurt. I mean, we've all been hurt, but I hope those scars from your past--from parents, or lovers, or friends, or siblings, or anyone or anything else, I hope they don't cause you anguish. I want you to laugh and smile, and love the wonder of the world.
I want you to know you are loved!
Will you let me love you? Will you rest your tired head on my shoulder? Will you let me be there for you? I will be, just ask.
My dear, I don't know if I'll find you, or if you'll find me. I have no idea what continent that we'll be on either. Or if it will be any time soon. But that's ok. I just really hope you like...no, love my friends. I really love them. And I feel like they already know about you (don't worry, no pressure! Just be yourself, they'll love you).
And since we're on the topic, I really hope you love my mom. I really love her, and I want you two to be best friends. I've always imagined you and her talking about me--perhaps in French, or Arabic, or even just English--and then laughing together. And then when I come and ask, "What's going on? What's so funny?" you both end up laughing even more. She'll become one of your best friends, she'll love you so much, and be the complete opposite of the "monster mother-in-law."
And if it's not asking too much, I really want you to love my dad too. He's such a loving man (I know, I'm really lucky!). Huge heart. Great father. You'll love him! And, of course, my sister. If you don't get her approval, we'll have a problem. But I'm not too worried. She wants me to be happy, but just don't get offended if she tells you exactly what's on her mind.
And, well, can you love the rest of my family as well? Because they're pretty awesome. Especially my cousins--all of them, God, they are wonderful! I can't wait to introduce you to them, the ones in Lebanon, in California, in New York. I have an awesome family!
I also hope it's ok with you that I'm very touchy-feely. What can I say, can a guy not love hugs? And cuddling? And everything in-between? It's one of my Love Languages. I hope you love hugs too. If not, we might have a problem. But then again, I'm sure there's nothing we can't accomplish--together. No problem we can't solve, no crisis we can't fix. As long as we have each other, right? In this life or the next.
FYI: I love talking about my feelings. A lot. I hope that's ok too. And I want to tell you all the time how much I love you, and how beautiful I think you are, and how you do that cool thing with your eye make-up sometimes, or just compliment you all the time because I love making you feel great about yourself and seeing you smile.
And you know all those poems I've written? One day, they'll all be for you too.
You know, all my friends joke with me about how much of a romantic I am. I don't think they ever really get it. I don't think they can fathom just how much I am. I want to be though; I want them to see it. I want them to really understand. And I hope you love, and appreciate me for that. Because, in the end, you're all that matters when it comes to this. I mean, who else should I be romantic with?
Ya Albi, I can't wait to meet you. Maybe I already have, but either way, I can't wait to pick up flowers for you on my way home from work, and leave them on your pillow. Or pick you up, and kiss you. Or make your favorite food, or always keep the toilet seat down for you, or buy more toilet paper when you call me frantically telling me we need it. And diapers too. Oh, and while I'm at it, I'll get milk as well. We always need milk. And if we disagree between whole and skim, can we just compromise at 2%? I'm ok with that. 1% is even better, but I won't press my luck.
I can't wait to do all those scandalous things I shouldn't do now. Like sexting you! I think when you're married it goes from creepy to cute and romantic. Right? Ok, maybe that's just me. We can talk about that too.
I wonder what languages you speak.
I wonder what your favorite pair of shoes are.
I wonder what's your favorite nail polish color (I love polished nails!)
Habibi, I talk too much, I apologize. But I just want to tell you this: I'm sure one day you will read this. I just hope you get to know me. I want you to understand me. I want you to know that I can't wait to fall in love with you. I dream of this moment. Imagine every second. I think of the day that I can ask you to share your life with me. Take my hand, and walk with me, beside me through life.
Can I tell you a secret? Do you know that I've already started writing what I want to say to you when I propose? Do you know that I'll never, ever share it with anyone but you?
My First Lady,
One day we will lock eyes, and everything in this world will make sense. And I will ask you about love. And life. And where you've been, and where you are going. And I will want to know about you, and wonder if I can come with you, accompany you on this journey. Be your first mate, your co-pilot.
Until then, I'll be waiting. Living my life, learning new things, seeing new places, meeting new people. But waiting... waiting for you. To give you everything.
Hayeto, please smile for me. Love life, I'll see you someday.
With all the love I already have for you, and SO much more,
Your best friend,
Your knight in shining armor,
P.S. If I have a dog when we meet, I really hope you love them too. I promise to love your cat (unless you have a dog too!).