Page Seven: A letter to my future husband

This isn’t something I usually would post. But upon arriving home the other day from work, a friend of mine prattled on the phone, telling me the reasons/perks why men should date her again.

In all honesty, I respect my friends’ love-lives and have no judgements whatsoever about their SO’s. But what really irritates me is the fact that they expect so much (and by so much, I mean like SO MUCH) from their other halves. I mean, that’s one of the main reasons why guys think girls are so over-dramatic, complicated and emotional beasts. Or worse, girls are like Ferraris – beautiful on the outside, deadly on the inside.

I sat down and thought about how I love my friends but decided that I will never be like them when it comes to this crazy thing called love. So, here’s a letter to my future husband:

I am not gonna start this letter Meghan Trainor style. I’m just gonna cut to the chase.

One thing you gotta know about me is that I am inexperienced when it comes to relationships. Yes, I admit it. Every time my friends ask me for a relationship advice, it usually takes me hours to come up with a satisfactory one. If the problem requires deep thinking, that’s when I consult Google and literally type away « How to give relationship advice to a friend. »

Secondly, as a girl hailing from a male-dominant family, I pretty much grew up around boys. No, I’m not a lesbian and never in my life will I ever be interested in women. But I do know how to interact with boys. I’ve wrestled with my brothers and cousins before. I’ve had a fist fight with them back when I was young. I’ve slept next to them in bed, on the floor, in the car while traveling to far-off places. I’ve cried with them. Laughed with them. Gone through something traumatic and life-changing with them. Moved places with them.

My point is, I don’t care. If you have a messy room or car, fine. I don’t care if you have bad habits like biting your nails etc. You don’t have to surprise me with a bouquet of roses because I’m allergic to pollen and to some flowers. No box of chocolate needed, too. You don’t have to buy me an expensive pair of high-heels because I’m okay with just trainers. You don’t have buy me clothes coz I’m fine with just jeans and a t-shirt. You don’t have to take me to fancy restaurants because really, I’m satisfied with just a pretzel and a cup of Red Bush tea.

Personally, I like someone who has low-maintenance; the type that you don’t always have to text him but when you meet together and do talk, there’s nothing but love, affection and friendship.

I really don’t care as long as you will love me for who I am and respect my feelings. Emotions. Pain. Everything. I don’t care as long as you promise to spend the rest of eternity with me and me only. And that is all I ask of you.

However, having said all that, it’s not to say that I’m a person who’s easy to get along with. I mean, sure. That’s fine. But hear this my friend, if you do something that will spark that hot and fiery rage within my cousins and brothers, know that it is the perfect time to migrate to another country and promise that you will never ever ever ever let yourself be seen again.

I’m forever yours,


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