Dear future hubster,
in case you were worried, you don't need to. You can keep your shiny two-seater; I don't mind being the one driving a real car with four doors to go grocery shopping and to fit the child seats. I can also be the designated driver when we go to Smug Couple Gatherings to the countryside. Just please don't comment, criticise, advise, educate me on my driving.

Dear future hubster,
for your info, I'm famous for pulling those impressive wisdom-filled one-liners without actually being wise. So here's one for you: Love itself is easy. It's relationships that make it complicated.

Dear future hubster,
do you mind if I have a slight celebrity crush on Ryan Gosling? It's not that I want you to be like him, a fairly decent Hollywood actor who by the way also plays guitar (and sometimes piano), sings in a voice that gives me chills and is funny. Oh, and has beautiful hands. I would just like you to not take it personally when I glaze over something as silly as "Is Ryan Gosling cuter than a puppy?". It's not you; it's not even me - it's just him.

Dear future hubster,
I love Antwerp. Just thought you'd need to know.

Dear future hubster,
The Unavailable Guy ran away when I talked about you. I think he thought I was talking about him. Maybe I was. Maybe he's you. Maybe you're him? Anyhow, he ran away and never looked back after I told him that you, future hubster, will have to take out the garbage because that's something I really don't like doing, and that you would have to do the family finances because the only thing I do well with money is spending it. Ironing obviously falls under my responsibilities, and I am happy to cook, so I really don't know what was his problem. Just to be on the safe side, are you ok distributing housework as described above? I'm open to negotiations.

Dear future hubster,
do you think we're middle class? Pretentious, Sunday-brunch, art gallery type middle class? I was walking through town Saturday around noon and mentally frowned at well-maintained, well-dressed, good-looking people carrying bakery-made cakes and thought "pffff, going for a Smug Couple's Lunch eh?" Then I mentally looked in the mirror and saw myself carrying some crackers and fruits and a bouquet, going to a friend's place for lunch. Where we agreed on a museum-apéro for next week. And rearranged her furniture. Is it ok with you if we end up being middle class?

Dear future hubster,
remember that Madonna song, from Evita, "I'll be surprisingly good for you"? I keep singing it. And I keep thinking how grateful you'll be for my coffee. I don't mean to brag, but I really make good coffee. With the heart and everything. I mean, even my Italian friends still think mine is acceptable. And they are very sensitive about that!
I just hope you actually drink coffee. 

Dear future hubster,
We were in sweet southern Spain when I decided I don't need a cocktail-boy. The one we met there was not very original, only remotely cute and waaay to shy for a tequila-fueled heartbreaker.
It's good to revise expectations time and again. I'm coming home to just share a good glass of wine with you. 

Dear future hubster,
We are in tornado-land now. Yesterday afternoon I had to mentally get ready to hide in the bathtub, with the mattress over me. I'm sure you would have laughed at me a lot. I did too, when I pictured myself in there.
But you know, it was a scary thought. Next time something similar happens, please pretend you're trained for tornado watches and tell me it's going to be ok. You know that I believe everything I hear.

Dear future hubster,
when I first really thought about you was when we went to the movies with Bea. It was a Sunday, it rained, buses barely ran. Then I realized I need to let you know that your coming picking us up after some Brad Pitt-related chick flick (a chick flick about baseball, ha!) is highly appreciated. VERY highly indeed. I'll make you hot chocolate when we get home, is that a fair deal?