Friday, June 14, 2019

When the stars go blue

Dear future hubster,
where do you go when you're lonely?
When you can't find your place,
when you can't find your peace?
Do you look for it everywhere?
Do you wait for it to come to you?
Do you go quiet when you hurt? Is that how I would know?
Does it hurt when you're quiet,
when you feel like you can't talk,
when you feel like you don't know what to say,
you don't know how to say it?
Do you try to fill the silence, so you don't hear your racing mind?
Do you try to listen to the silence, try to hear the answer?
Do you hide out, waiting for the dark grey clouds to go away?
Do you hope to be found?
Do you know I'm trying to find you?



Thursday, May 30, 2019

A girl is a lucky one

Dear future hubster,
By now you should have somehow realised that your future wife is a bit of a traveller. You might have also noticed that although I am one to go with the changes, I might not necessarily be one who enjoys them immensely (to put it mildly). Probably because I ache to belong? But I also ache to be recognised, appreciated, wanted, and if it doesn't happen, I get itchy to look for it elsewhere.
Luckily, I'm not the only one. The upside of being one constantly on the search is that there are many others, and the more I move around, the more of them I know. And the best thing that can happen to anybody arriving to a new place after having left everything behind yet another time is to know that somebody is already there.
Somebody of the same tribe, somebody who knows how it feels, how it's exciting and terrifying and shiny brand new and sad and funny and joyful and overwhelming and bizarre. Somebody who doesn't ask the big whys, just tells you the little hows. Somebody who, by their simple existence, can prove you that yes it is possible and you will be just fine, and at the same time knows without saying that it's bloody hard and it might take a while until you're actually fine.

Eventually, you become that somebody. And when the next one arrives, you're grateful again that you're not alone, that your experiences, although personal to you, are not unique. You're not that special.

You might not see these people very often, or ever again, but the moment when they were there remains an important one. A melodramatically bonding one. We just don't talk about it much, because we are these cool strong brave people (what all of those things mean is a story for another day).

So until you come around, dear future hubster,  and we can do this nonsense together, I will keep relying on and being deeply grateful for these people. And once you're around, know that you and I, we are going to be those people.

Wednesday, May 1, 2019

Star damage injuries at that

Dear future hubster,
although we've established long ago that I only purchase clothing items I can put on and take off without external help (which often means thoroughly examining the zipper and its accessibility, on some occasions, it would still make practical sense if you were around. When I forget what the Caribbean sun can do to me, and as a consequence, I need to attend to my injuries in the weirdest places, for instance. 

Thursday, April 18, 2019

Applicable not only to medieval churches

Dear future hubster,
the term "taken for granted" is so overused that we don't really think about it much anymore. We might know what it means, but we're not stopping to try to revoke how it feels. 
Probably because it is not a good feeling. When we realize we have been taking something for granted is usually the same time we realize it is under threat of being lost, destroyed, or otherwise taken away. We might also realize that we haven't exactly been appreciating it as much as we should have and do now that it's under threat. It's not that we're ungrateful, but when something or somebody is part of our daily reality, it seems pointless to imagine a life without them, and also somewhat unnecessarily painful. Why would we torture ourselves with the thought of living without something that we can't actually grasp losing?
Still, dear future hubster, things, people, relationships, places, habits, comfort zones, they all get lost destroyed, or otherwise taken away sometimes. Being in constant fear of losing them sounds like a terrible idea; spending the available time enjoying, appreciating, and thanking them, a much better one. 

Sunday, March 17, 2019

No need to rock. Or to be one.

Dear future hubster,
when your future wife feels like her life is a carousel spinning out of control, when all the things once wished for and then forgotten come at her all at once, and sometimes even ones never wished for, when all decisions need to be taken, except that by the time they are taken they are also outdated and need to be put on hold and/or reconsidered, when she feels so dizzy that she just wants to hold onto something, and preferably sleep through it all, not only because she's a natural conflict avoider but also because the continuous turmoil her mind is exposed to drains her body from all energy -  when you see her in that state, do you know what to do?
Just hold her. Her world is spinning and her head is a very noisy place. Hold her, close, tight, steady, until the noises quiet down and the spinning stops. Be her anchor.
For enhanced results, you might turn on the fake fireplace you have on your TV.

Monday, March 11, 2019

You might throw in a drawing or two

Dear future hubster,
so far, I have used the fridge to stick disputably useful notes, love messages, and tacky magnets.
But you know what? It may be about time to get a whiteboard in my kitchen. One of these immaculate, big, shiny and reassuring boards, where all thoughts, plans, wishes, grocery shopping list could be easily displayed, prioritized, and catalogued.
I have the impression that my head is becoming too small for everything I want to fit in it. Does it ever happen to you? Or is it something that only us women have been blessed with?  This capacity of thinking about three different things at the same time, while doing at least another two completely unrelated tasks at the very same time.
Anyway, when you come home you will probably see me drinking wine and scrabbling on my board, trying to get some sense out of the week's schedule, my ideas and the bureaucratic deadlines.
Get some wine and a marker, and help me cross out the things that you will do, those we will do together and those that do not need to happen for my mind to be at peace.

Sunday, February 17, 2019

To take your heart away

Dear future hubster, 
some days, all I want from you is to talk to me. Talk to me with all the words, beautiful in their sound, beautiful in their meaning, beautiful because you say them to me. 
We can build our own fort in the living room, our fort of words. You build the walls, I'll bring the furniture. You make it stand, I make it cozy. And then we move in, to our fort of words, and read them to each other. I read your words back to you, you read my words back to me, until we no longer know who said what and it doesn't matter because it's all warm and soft and safe and we never want to leave.