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. 

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 ...

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.

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 wi...