Dear Future Wife,

You’re probably wondering why I’m writing to you via this blog site.
I’m wondering the same thing myself.
I just want you to get a glimpse of my thoughts. I’m not the best communicator at this time, so it’s probably not easy to deal with me.
I guess I want you to be able to go back to this post whenever we’re in an argument.
Alright, here it goes.
I love you so much.
I want you to win every argument.
I’m probably the reason for most of our arguments.
I lack a lot in the communication department.
I have a lot of issues with my pride and hate being wrong.
I don’t know how you feel about being wrong, but it physically hurts my stomach—sort of like the opposites of feeling butterflies.
I hope you know that even before I met you, I have been planning how to ask you to be my girlfriend.
More importantly, I’ve been wondering how I’m going to ask you to marry me.
I’ve been studying that.
I don’t like romantic comedies just to like them.
Notice I said romantic comedies, not just romantic movies.
While I’m a fan of The Notebook and A Walk To Remember (I think that’s what it’s called, right?), That’s not how I want it to go down.
I’m a lot funnier, but you know this already.
I’ve probably practiced the thought in my head a lot more than it is worth mentioning out loud.
I hope you know that during our first date I’ve already pictured how we would be like on our wedding night.
Once I figured out that you got along with my siblings, I knew that it was right.
I figured my sister would probably be the girl I don’t want to be a part of your bridesmaids because she’s a bad influence, and I’m going to worry a little bit at your bachelorette party.
After a few dates, I’ve started to wonder how our children will look.
I suck at recognizing certain things including; your haircut that you swear you got, your eyebrows growing out, or your nails being a different color, I’ve noticed plenty of other things.
I see your birthmarks, beauty spots, and your dimple wondering if our future kiddos will have either of those because I’d like that.
At this point, I know that won’t surprise you. I’m as cheesy as it gets, but I do my best to hide that fact.
I’m not exactly sure why. You could probably come up with a better guess. I think it probably has to do with the fact that it’s so essential for me to be a reliable individual before I’m a part of any team.
Sounds more stupid as I type it.
Getting back to my point. My mom raised me well. I’m an asshole, for sure. I also consider myself a gentleman. For the rest of your life, you will never have to worry about opening your door to get into the car. If we’re lucky enough to have a daughter, I’ll do the same for her, so she knows that she can’t accept anything less. If we have a son, I’ll make sure he’s the one who opens your door when I’m not around.
I mentioned that I want you to win every argument going forward.
The only ask I have is allowing me to go to Philly with my little brother for the Eagles home opener every year. I know that’ll probably ruin our plans now and then, but I’ll let you go anywhere you want in return. It’s just the birds, babe, you must understand.
I’ll do all the yard work and the housework. On nights where I want to watch a game, I’ll make sure I do the dishes as long as you don’t get upset with me for yelling at the TV.
I know I shouldn’t have to wait to get married to prove to you how much I love you, but I promise you that the day I get down on my knee, I will have ZERO doubt about my decision to make it officially forever and ever.
Maybe I’ll even read this at the wedding. *Jordan shrug*