Dear Future Husband, I Hope You Read This Someday (3)
Dear Love,
I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, about the moments where I thought I had finally found you, only to see that it wasn’t quite right. It’s funny and annoying at the same time how life keeps throwing people my way, making me hope and hope and then pulling me back to this place of waiting for you.
There was someone I met who, for a while, I truly believed was you. I can’t lie, I loved him deeply. He made me feel things I hadn’t felt before, and for a brief moment, I thought that this was it. I thought my search for you was over. He felt like home in so many ways.
We spent time having great conversations, talked about our dreams, and talked about life as if we had already known each other for years. I remember thinking, I’ve finally found him. This is the person I’ve been writing to, the one I’ve been waiting for. And for a while, it felt so real. He cared for me, loved me, and in those moments, I thought the universe had finally brought us together.
But somewhere along the way, things started to change. I don’t know when it happened or how exactly, but it did. Slowly, the love that had felt so strong started to fade till I was left alone to hold on to it. For a long time, I sought closure. I wanted to know what went wrong and why it ended the way it did. I tried so hard to make it fit because I wanted it to be him so badly. I wanted to believe that the love we shared could grow into something lasting, something that would finally lead me to the future I’ve been dreaming about with you. I remember the day it became clear to me that no matter how much I wished it, he wasn’t you. He wasn’t the one I was waiting for. And it broke my heart, not just because I lost him, but because I had to let go of the hope that I had found you. Dear future husband, what’s taking you so long?
Then there was another one. He came into my life when I was feeling lonely, and for a moment, he filled that space. I won’t lie—there were times I convinced myself that maybe I was wrong to keep waiting for you, that maybe he could be enough. He was sweet and kind, but something always felt off. We’d talk, but it never reached that place of real connection. I think I was more in love with the idea of him than who he actually was. I kept hoping he’d become someone I could see a future with, but in the end, he was just another stop on this long journey to you.
There was this guy I met. He was incredibly sweet, the kind of person who made me feel like I could talk to him for hours without even noticing the time pass. I had a huge crush on him, and for a moment, I really believed there might be something between us.
He was such a great listener, the type who made me feel like every word I said mattered. And the way he spoke—so thoughtful and intelligent—it made every conversation feel like something special. I found myself looking forward to our chats, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he liked me too. I convinced myself that there was something deeper in the way he engaged with me, something unsaid but understood. I thought that maybe he was just waiting for the right moment to say it.
But as time passed, I realized that it was all in my head. Everything I thought he felt, everything I imagined we could be, wasn’t real. I had made it all up in my mind, overstating his words, reading between the lines when there was nothing there. He was kind, and maybe he did care about me in some way, but not in the way I had hoped. He never explicitly said anything, and in the end, that silence spoke louder than anything else.
It’s funny how the mind works and how we can take something small, like a meaningful conversation, and turn it into something that is not. I wanted to believe he saw me the way I saw him. But eventually, I had to face the truth: I was seeing things that weren’t really there. I wanted so badly for it to be real that I overlooked what was right in front of me.
He never promised me anything or led me on; it was just me, hoping for something more. And even though it kind of stung to realize that the connection I felt wasn’t mutual, it taught me an important lesson about expectations.
I am learning to be more careful with my heart and to not let my mind fill in the gaps when someone isn’t giving me the clarity I want. And I am also learning that when it’s you, there won’t be any guessing games. I won’t have to start asking myself if you feel the same way, because I’ll know. You’ll make it clear, not just through your words but through your actions, and there won’t be any reason to doubt.
There is also someone else I met who taught me a lot, though not in the way I expected. He was good-looking, undeniably so, and for a while, I think that’s what drew me to him. But beyond his handsome face, there wasn’t much else. He didn’t really care about how I felt. In fact, he barely seemed to notice. He doesn’t even know how to hold meaningful conversations.
It’s almost embarrassing to admit now, but I liked him for all the wrong reasons. He was nonchalant, always making things about himself, as if my feelings didn’t matter in the slightest. He rarely asked how I was doing and never showed genuine interest in who I was; he was just curious, and somehow, I kept trying to convince myself that maybe this was just how he was, or worse, that maybe I was asking for too much.
But the truth is, he didn’t even meet two of the most important criteria for what I need in a partner: someone who truly cares and someone who’s emotionally present. It took me a while to see it because I was so focused on the surface, which is how he looked. I thought, He’s attractive, so maybe everything else will fall into place. But it didn’t. The more I got to know him, the more I realized that he didn’t really have sense like that. In the end, I had to let go of the illusion I had created in my mind.
But here’s the funny thing: I never actually dated any of them. I am quite delusional, right?
I’ve just met someone new, and honestly, he makes my heart feel things I didn’t expect. Whenever we talk, I feel this spark inside me, and it’s like my entire face lights up with joy. I can’t even describe how much he makes me happy—it’s as if my skin has started to glow with the happiness I feel because of him. It’s crazy, I know, but it’s true.
He’s sweet, funny, and in so many ways, he makes me feel seen. Part of me really really wants him to be you. There’s something about the way he listens, how he understands me, even the things I don’t say out loud. It feels like he gets me in ways I’ve always hoped you would. When I think about the kind of love I’ve been writing to you about—the love I’ve dreamed of—he’s the closest I’ve ever come to experiencing it.
He’s shown me, over and over again, that the kind of love I desire is possible. I’ve never felt so comfortable and so understood with anyone else before. It’s like he knows what I need without me having to ask. If I’m being honest, if I had to choose, I’d want you to be him a million times over. That’s how much he’s made me believe in love.
But, as much as I want him to be you, I can’t help but feel like there are certain things that might make it impossible, and that scares me because he’s the closest to showing me the kind of love I’ve been waiting for.
So here I am, still writing to you, still waiting for you, wondering if maybe you’re already here. Maybe we’ve already crossed paths, or maybe we haven’t yet. But when we do, I’ll know. You’ll make sure of it.
With love,
Your Hopeless Romantic.
If you read till this point, you can also read the previous letters I’ve written to my future husband here, I promise you that you’d enjoy them as much as you enjoyed this one:
