It’s funny to think that I’m sitting here writing this, and you’re sitting in some other house, some other place, some other world.
One day we’ll love each other, yet today we don’t even know each other’s names.
Or maybe we do.
I often think of you. I think of who you are, what you do, when we’ll meet. Sometimes I think I can picture you in my mind, yet I don’t know if this is an image of the lovers of my past, or if it is the stranger in my future.
I love the thought of you.
The man who’ll be my partner in crime as well as my lover. The man who’ll stay up late watching awful movies with me and laughing until our stomachs hurt. The man who wants to support me through thick and thin. The man who I’ll sit in cafés with and people-watch together, giggling like school kids. The man who can make me laugh like no other, yet still dive into the deepest conversations with me. The man who’ll never put me in the position of doubting our love.
I won’t be easy; I’ll have my struggles, I’ll have my down days. But no matter what, all I’ll ever want to do at the end of the day is be with you.
It’s funny to think that you’re out there, staring at the same stars, thinking about the same thing.
I can’t wait to meet you.