Dear future hubster,
Sometimes I feel a quiet relief that you're not around. Not because I want the entire pizza for myself, or because I don't want questioning looks when I'm watching any given episode of Game of Thrones 3+ times.
Rather when times, the universe, the stars, throw an opportunity at me which means packing and moving again. In those moments I am relieved that I don't have to ask you to do it again. That I don't have to ask you to put me first, even if we discussed it, even if I knew you told me it was my turn. That I don't have to think that I'm uprooting you yet again, that I don't have to expect you to start over new because of me.
That I don't have to wonder whether you would say "this time no".