I’m really sorry that my blog is going to be lovey and sappy the next few days. Actually no. I’m not sorry at all. My blog, my rules. Happy Valentine’s Week to me b*tches.
So, I’ve written a letter to my future husband before (“With A Hooker As My Witness“), but this one goes out to the guy before the guy. Unless the guy before the guy ends up being the husband guy too, well, then happy reading, you lucky son of a b*tch.
Dearest, sweetest Mr. Right Now,
Hi babe, I hope all is well. I hope that you are out there killing it at life. I hope that you are having a great time and enjoying every single second of every single day. But I also hope that you’re looking around for me, because I have definitely been looking for you. Usually in all the wrong places, but definitely making an effort.
I really hope that it doesn’t bother you that I write about you like this, because trust me, when we have real stories together, it’s going to be so much worse. So deal with it sucka. #sorrynotsorry
I bet that you’re fun, like really fun. I hope you take me dancing because I love it and if you don’t, well then, you’re definitely not husband guy. But that’s okay. If you don’t like to dance, you’ll still have to take me, and you can just stand back and buy me drinks and awkward two step while I slay the floor around you. Hope you’re ready for that.
Will you take me to do karaoke? Like proper let’s go to a karaoke bar and do a Sonny and Cher duet. No, better yet, let’s sing “Drunk in Love”… even though we’re not in love (yet?), I still want my Beyonce moment, and you can be my Jay Z for a minute. So, that’s a big responsibility, don’t take it lightly.
I think what I’m trying to say is, you’re Mr. Fun. You’re not Mr. Meet the Parents. And I’m waiting for you to stroll in any second now. No, not stroll, you better be jogging into my life real soon boyfriend, because I’m getting restless over here. I don’t need you by any means. I don’t want to confuse you there. But I would really like it if you made an appearance soon.
Lots of Like,