A Letter to My Dear Future Husband…


Dear future husband,

When we talk about the daily occurrences life presents us with each and every passing nanosecond, addressing a letter to someone you have not met and probably would never meet until a casket is slide over you; someone who may not even exist certainly is not as part of us as politician’s cunning intelligence is.

So this may look a bit outrageous, someone would even tag it a mental case but it is just me sending a message to my ‘ultimate forever’ so really it is no big deal.

Dear future husband,

I hope you really are the one because I cannot afford to make mistakes again, hell no!!!…. The era of we learning from our mistakes has long overstayed its welcome and I do not want to breach an unseen contract with nature by rejuvenating it; it is a luxury my lifetime savings cannot pay.

I know one possibly cannot have the whole package in a single Adam. How I wish that thought is feasible though but since it is not and I cannot have two husbands I guess I am thorn between a rock and a hard place.

Dear future husband,

I do not know you but I have perceived you to be a rather understanding and a dove-like person. On that grounds I know you concur with me that a woman cannot do away with ‘some’ things and some of these things are the vivid mental picture every woman has of their ideal man, the supposedly soul mate.

Short men makes me stagnant, not that I have anything against them or whatsoever your judgmental mind is having you believe; in the end they never asked to be of that height but being human makes me prone to taste and preference.

I am not a racist sweet but when I project my imagination to myself in a white gown cuffed in the arms of father, I do not see him giving me to any man with a dark complexion; again taste and preference.

No one needs that extra flesh and all that love handles; neither do I need that entire biceps that a lot of women practically drool over…. I am not ‘a lot of women’ so I have singular taste in all things. And oh I almost forgot, having a pot belly is no degree that could be slapped on the walls of our future living room so please do not work on that. We do not want two pregnant women at home; it would be confusing for the kids.

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“Education is the key to success” is a cliché believed rather in writing than in the realms of reality. People have reached the zenith of the education ladder yet the only thing they can show for it are few words written on an A4 sheet paper, nothing special but that should not be a reason enough to block it entirely in your life like you would do to a confused twitter follower. If not the key to success, it definitely would be the key to unlock us.

Dear future husband,

I do not need you to be sinfully sexy like Michael Ealy; you don’t have to be as funny as Kevin Hart and in as much as a sense of humor makes a man sweeter I would pardon you for all that. What I won’t pardon you for is being obtuse, dumb and overly unromantic because your dear future wife is a hopeless romantic and a strict sapio-sexual to the latter.

We are all aware of how integral sex is in marriage life so if you lack in that department, you should seriously work on it, aim for a PHD if need be for I have seen worst and better and I opt for the latter. I would want you to be my personal p**n star. The truth is a woman with an unsatisfying libido is capable of things.

Who would not want to be spoilt with money? The vacations, expensive hobbies, the luxurious cars I mean the list are limitless. But love is all that matters; you cannot possibly be the next Donald Trump. I believe in humble beginnings and the use of dint work to arrive at success; so take your time I have your back.

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If you cannot have time for me then I do not know what you can have me so please the “I have been busy with work” must be avoided forever. You can have alcohol as much as you want but do not make it a part of you like morning shower; as for womanizing and cheating the least touched on, the better because you would know with time I am not generous when it comes to sharing joysticks.

Dear future husband,

The love and fear of the creator must be in you; honesty should be your all and with that I promise to love and obey you till the end of time. Worship you like a king and adore you like my eyes. In the hearts of your noble heart my count.

As his welled up eyes read “yours faithfully, future wife” for the umpteenth time, he bullied the diary across the floor and watched it settle at the entrance of the peeping door.

After what seemed like an explosive sex with the woman he wedded five years ago, the least he expected was such an excruciating aftermath. The blinding eye-opener was he realizing that he was everything but not the ideal man described in the diary.

He could have avoided reading the book because it was not for him to and he would have lived the entirety of his life believing he is everything she ever wanted and more. He is probably going to live, lurking in the darkness of day seeking for answers to no questions.

Sometimes we think we want to see or hear something only for us to think otherwise after the exposure.

Dear future husband…