See you someday, love.

See you when the waiting is over.

See you when I can wake up next to you, try to get out of bed, and decide that coffee can wait for just five more minutes of listening to your heartbeat.

See you when we can spend long evenings doing nothing more important than discussing muffins vs. cupcakes or the admirable qualities of cats.

See you when I can watch the subtle little changes that life causes in you from day to day, when I can take delight in all the tiny, inconsequential details that make you who you are. Like the kinds of smiles you have, or the way your voice gets rougher when you’re already half-asleep.

See you when I can cry on your shoulder and know the powerful comfort of your simple presence and strength.

See you when I can hug the frustration right out of you, or find the right words to say, or simply take care of you after you’ve had one of those days when everything goes wrong.

See you when I don’t just get to hear your laughter, but see it and feel it rumbling through your body into mine.

See you when time and space no longer separate us, when I can write my love on your skin instead of on a white, empty screen far removed from your warmth.

When today is difficult, or painful, or just plain sad, I always try to remember one thing.

I’ll see you someday.

Until someday, love.

To my future husband, about a secret longing

By the time you read this knowing it’s for you, you already have my heart, along with the promise that it is yours to keep for the rest of our lives. Now there’s something I need to tell you, a seldom-spoken truth about the heart I gave that hopefully won’t change your mind.

I need you to pursue me.

There. Writing it, I sort of cringe in front of my computer. I try to find words that are less needy, less emotional, less vulnerable. It sounds so…unfeminist. But as much as I believe in a woman’s worth apart from a man’s opinion, there it is, the bare, unvarnished truth of my heart: I need you not just to love me, but to long for me.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not merely being longed for that I crave. There have been other pursuits in the past, other promises that I haven’t accepted because I was waiting for you to show up. But when you came…I stopped running. It’s  kind of ironic that the man I cannot turn away from is the one whose pursuit I most desire.

May I tell you something else? Sometimes, I don’t really believe I deserve it. On the darkest days, I wonder if you can ever look at me and see someone you would seek to the ends of the earth, someone worth fighting for, someone captivating and absolutely irreplaceable. And I’m very much afraid that if the answer is no,  or a devastatingly careless shrug, my love for you and my self-doubt would conspire to make me accept it. I would make excuses on your behalf, clinging to the assurance you gave while you were still trying to win me, convincing myself that it’s enough. I would dismiss my need as overly romantic and unreasonable, all the while quietly wondering if you’re only staying because I ask so little of you. And day by day, my heart would gradually shrink, drying up and shriveling on the part that your yearning used to fill.

So please. When we are spending our lives together, never stop wanting me.

Miss me when I’m gone. Really miss me.

Listen when I talk, even if it doesn’t seem important to you, even when it’s hard to understand. That’s how I’ll know you’re still discovering me, that you’re still interested, and not indifferent.

Don’t let me be the only one who asks for quality time. Your time, those moments when we can just delight in each other, is the “I love you” I most understand.

Kiss me like you mean it. Let’s promise never to let ourselves get out of practice.

I want our bed to eventually sag in the middle, because that’s where we always end up, instinctively drawing close even in our sleep. There’s nothing sadder in a marriage, I think, than a bed where the occupants never cross the boundary between his side and hers.

Whatever you do, just tell me. Tell me in a way that feels more than just a habit. Tell me with your voice and your eyes and your hands.  Tell me with the way you seek my gaze across a crowd. Tell me with the way you touch me when we wake up. Tell me you want me, desire me, that you would choose me again if we both lived twice.

Because there’s one last thing I want to confess, my darling: that’s exactly how I feel about you. You see, I’ve been longing for you all my life. Even before we met, even when my faith wavered that you would come, I’ve been longing for you. And the truth is, love, I simply don’t know how to stop.

*****

Just like last week, Inspiration Monday has again given me exactly the push I needed to get out what I wanted to write. This week, the prompts I heeded were “you only live twice” and “single but taken”.  Thanks, InMon!

I’m daydreaming again. There’s just something about this place that makes dreaming so easy.

I can see it now, babe, our life together.

Like the first morning I wake up with you. There will be that odd feeling at first, you know: disorientation. Something’s different, I think to myself behind closed eyes, still sleepy but puzzled. Then it dawns on me.

“Oh my God,” I gasp out loud. “I’m married.”

Wide awake now, I turn my head to find you beside me, smiling. You’re trying not to laugh, I can tell.

“Good morning,” you whisper, in that voice that I’ve had the biggest crush on from the start.

“I’m your wife,” I inform you, like this is news somehow.

You give up on holding the chuckles back.

“Yes,” you laugh, pulling me close. “And I’m your husband.”

That vital piece of information gets lost in the pleasure of snuggling deeper into your arms. My favorite place in the world, sweetly familiar on this life-changing day.

“It feels strange,” I admit to your chest, the only part of you that I can see. You’re holding me so tightly I couldn’t look up, but I don’t want any space between us. Not even the tiniest bit.

“Being married?”

“Yeah,” I sigh, but the feeling is wearing off as I focus on the beat of your heart. Another familiar thing.

“Bad strange?” you ask, ready to reassure me. You’ve always done that, calmed me down when I over think myself into a panic. You’ve talked down my walls until the only thing keeping me safe is the certainty that you will never, never, never take your love away.

I consider all of that, as well as your question, and I realize that there’s nothing to over think. This is you. This is us. We get to keep each other forever. And on the heels of that thought comes a great big booming burst of joy inside my chest. Fireworks, babe. Cheers and confetti and a big brass band. The biggest smile of my life growing inside my heart. I’m married. To you.

“No,” I say, wanting to jump up and bounce on the bed, except I don’t really want to leave your arms. “Wonderful strange. The bestest and happiest kind.” Can you feel my smile against your skin?

And then you turn my face up, and you see it for yourself, all the happiness in my eyes. It has to show — I don’t think my body can keep that much joy a secret. I don’t  mind. I want you to know all the deepest things written in my soul. I love you. I choose you. I choose you over fear, over self-protection, over doubt. I choose you for the rest of my life, for always. Completely. Irrevocably. No one else.

When you kiss me, I can feel those same words in every touch of your lips. All the words you’ve said over and over, even long before I was brave enough to say them back. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. Never stop believing that I do.

As I start to lose myself, I realize one thing. Every morning, from this day forward, will begin like this. And suddenly, that doesn’t feel strange anymore. It feels right. It’s the rightest thing in the world, waking up beside you. It’s the only way I want to wake up for the rest of my life.

Until someday, my love.

Wait for me as I wait for you.

Another Letter for My Future Husband

Beloved,

It’s been almost four years since I first wrote you a letter, and so much has changed. Four years isn’t a long time, but reading that letter feels like a glimpse into another life. In a lot of ways, I am a different person today.

I still love you. That much remains the same. I am still waiting, and I still have faith that you will find me someday. But that someday seems farther away now than it did four years ago, and I can no longer see it clearly.

So much has happened. And someday I will tell you all about it; I will cry in your arms and tell you about the hurt and the heartbreak and the confusion that have me stumbling now, hesitant to come closer to you because I would not have you see me like this.

There are some battles yet that I have to win on my own before I can face you. I don’t want to give myself to you broken; I want to be able to love you with a heart that is whole and brave and unafraid.

But I will still need you. There are struggles that I cannot face alone, and I want you there. I need you there, and I need to know that you will not leave halfway through. I need to know that you will fight for me, even when the enemy is myself.

And perhaps I may need to fight for you, as well. Perhaps we both have walls that need to be broken down before we can belong together. When that time comes, I want to be strong enough and wise enough not to run away.

Until then, darling, wait for me. Wait with me. Our time will come, love, when we are both ready. But even now, no matter what, I love you. I love you not knowing who you are, or where you are, or whether you are thinking of me at all. I love you not knowing when I will be with you. Because one thing I do know: no matter how many times I stumble on this road, you are walking this path, too, and in the perfect time, you will find me.

Yours,

Abigail

A Letter for My Future Husband

This is one of several letters I wrote to give to my future husband on our wedding day. I’d just like to share it as an encouragement to those who are also in the season of waiting.

June 9, 2007 (2:38 AM)

Dearest,

By the time you read this, you and I would have met, learned to love each other, and promised to belong together for the rest of our lives. I would have memorized everything about you — your face, your voice, your touch. And you would know me more intimately than anyone ever has or will.

But right now, I am alone. I know you only in my imagination…and my dreams. But, darling, in a way that I can’t explain, I love you now. It’s as if I know you in my heart, and because we are separated by time, I miss you. So I am writing this to you as a way of reaching into the future — to tell you that I am saving my heart until you finally come to claim it. I am waiting for you, beloved. And I pray that wherever you are right now, you are waiting for me as well.

As the days go by, I long for you in a way that I have never experienced before. It is a strange feeling, to miss someone whom I do not even know. My prayer is that this longing will glorify God by drawing me closer to him, because as much as I love you now and will love you in the future, I will always love Him more. I know that it will be the same for you, as it should. Our common passion for the one who made us for each other will strengthen our love and deepen our bond. It will be the first thing that will draw me towards you.

Though it isn’t always easy, I can see the hand of God in giving us this season of waiting. Because you are always in my thoughts, simple activities become special when I think of them as preparation for the future. There is so much more to learn before I am ready. Be patient with me, beloved, for my life is a work in progress. I know that yours is, too. Therefore, allow me to say this now: If there is anything, anything at all in your past that might hurt me, know that you will have my forgiveness. You do not have to earn it; it is yours. I am no stranger to second chances, and I do not want our future to hold any bitterness or recriminations. Let us live in the freedom that the greatest Love of all has restored to us.

Someday, you and I will talk about everything that made us who we are. There may be laughter, tears, thankfulness, and yes, regrets. But always, God’s goodness will be present. It is, after all, because of His love that we will find each other. And when we do, this season of waiting will give way to a season of discovery, when I can finally listen to your stories and tell you all of mine. So until that day, beloved, I am saving myself for you. I have surrendered the keys of my heart to God, and he will open the door for you to enter in the perfect time.

I love you, my darling. I am waiting.

Yours forever,

Abigail

P.S. I’ve got other letters for you. It’s become a habit, I think. At this rate you’ll probably spend our entire honeymoon reading.