So I’m in an extremely mushy soapy cheesy mood as I write this.
You’ve been warned.
Hey babe. No this isn’t me apologizing for something I’ve done. Or I’m about to do. This is another one of ’em love letters. You can roll your eyes all you want, I know you love getting them. Same way you love the flowers I send to your office sometimes, don’t lie. Toyosi tells me how you blush and act like a love-struck teenager whenever they come :D
I have that our favorite Train song on repeat as I write this (you know what that song does to me):
Forever can never be long enough for me
To feel like I’ve had long enough with you…
I want many more years to be called your wife; your woman.
I want many more years to feel your arms wrapped around me.
I want many more years for you to correct me when I’m being strong headed.
I want many more years for you to complete my sentences.
I want many more years of intelligent scintillating conversation.
I want many more years to match your wit with brilliant comebacks.
I want many more years for you to get me without me saying a word.
I want many more years to beat you at Guitar Hero and Fifa.
I want many more years to argue and then make up.
I want many more years to feel you watching me proudly as I do my book readings and signings.
I want many more years to cook your meals.
I want many more years to cradle your head on my breasts when things are rough.
I want many more years to hold your hands and pray with you.
I want many more years to lie in bed and just be. With you.
Together will never be close enough for me
To feel like I am close enough to you…
It still hurts when we’re apart babe. You’d think that after all this time together I’d be used to it but I’m not. And I don’t ever want to be. I still feel that ache deep in my heart when we part ways in the morning and I’m practically counting the hours till we’re together again in the evening. Why do you think I sometimes (like this morning) ditch my car and ask to ride to work with you? I know I say it’s because I hate to drive in traffic but the truth is that on such mornings, I just want every extra second I can get with you.
I remember that last fight we had. Remember? That neither of us wanted to concede and we almost went to bed upset. But then you started playing Neyo’s Mad on the music player and then at the same time we turned and looked at each other sheepishly and then we started laughing. Remember what happened after? Kai! We should fight more often babe I swear.
Today and Every day.
I love you babe. I don’t say it nearly enough but I mean it. With all that is me.
When you make me mad, I love you.
When I make you mad, I love you.
The kids will soon start to arrive. I’m glad that we took this time of to just be married, husband and wife first, before we become parents. I’ve never been a parent before but everyone says that it’s a lot of work and we’ll get caught up and crazy busy that we’ll forget to even breathe. I’m not worried though; as long as you’re beside me every step of the way I know we’ll make fantastic parents. As long as you don’t attempt to sing for our children sha :|
Seriously though, in the middle of all the morning sickness, irrational cravings, crankiness, laziness, labour period were I’ll hate you, sleepless nights, school runs et al, I want you to know that you are still my number one. If it ever seems like I’ve forgotten, please whip out this letter and shove it in my face :)
Ok I’m going to stop now. I have more words and could go on for days but I have to drop this off at DHL now or they won’t get it to your office today.
P.S- This is a love letter my darling, so imagine it in 18th century style pretty, flowery handwriting (not in my scrawny chicken scratch), on flowery scented paper (it’s not scented but at least its flowery), written with a feather dipped in ink (I really did try using one of them ink fountain pen type things but it kept smearing and ruining the whole paper).
I see you babe.
I love you.