Dear future hubster

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...

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.