Dear future hubster

Dear future hubster, I've been diagnosed with a severe case of wanderlust long ago. You need to know that this is a permanent condition and thus doesn't get healed. Sometimes the symptoms are milder, but that's temporary. We need to travel; I love being somewhere else, I love exploring the unknown and taking a piece of it with me. Would you go with me?

Dear future hubster, ever since I came back from Spain, I'm being told or asked, with a more or less surprised undertone, how much weight I've lost. I don't really know, as I go by the famous hit of Die Sömetings: You Don't Need the Bathroom Scale Anymore, but yeah, quite a bit. The more or less surprised tone usually goes on to tell me how much better I look now. First I was flattered, sometimes a bit uncomfortable (I know people look at other people's body, but it's somehow not a conversation topic for me. I can tell if you're reading my boobs, but won't mention it.). Then it got me thinking, because it reoccurred so many times, and always with the same message: you look so good _now_. Don't get me wrong, they were all very friendly and appreciative about it, but still, it sounded more and more like they were implying the "old" me didn't look good. Because the "old" me was heavier. Two things bother me about this. One, t...

Dear future hubster, the problem is that I keep writing our story while you're not only not here, but also have no idea that we even have a story. And then you come home and don't act as I'd expect you to and I'm upset and disappointed because our story, the one I was writing while you were away and oblivious to my existence, doesn't mean the same to you.

Dear future hubster, there are several reasons why I insisted that this winter-to-summer-tyre-business should be your job. One of them is that I'm really gifted at getting bruised and now I look like you've beaten me. Again.

Dear future hubster, whenever you want to pop the question: my friends know where to get the ring.

Dear future hubster, I know that once you're home, there will be no more Friday nights spent watching Desperate Housewives on my own. And I won't mind that.