Letters to Luthien

Letters to My Future Bride

One Year Anniversary Promise #25: An Everyday Love

“Her smile will be right there when I step through that door
And it will be that way tomorrow, just like everyday before
It’s ordinary, plain and simple, typical, this everyday love
Same ol’, same ol’ keeping it new, emotional, so familiar
Nothing about it too peculiar oh, but I can’t get enough
Of this everyday love

Rascall Flatts

Dear Darling,

12 months ago, I took my wistful little romantic letters online in hopes either of finding you, or inspiring you, or inspiring others. 12 months ago.

That wasn’t the beginning.

No, the very first letter I ever wrote to you was May 20, 2007. I still have it, and all the letters in between. Four and a half years of them. I’m going for a record.

Here, a small group of hopeless romantics and loveless wanderers have also gathered, who find appeal in my words. I’ve inspired tears, laughs and smiles. Since I began, I’ve allegedly had more than 6,700 visitors, from 62 different countries.

This makes the 170th letter I’ve published online, and I have 64 drafts of unfinished ideas still to develop.

We’ve made one whole trip around the sun. I’ve grown a little older, a little wiser, a little kinder and fonder, but also a little lonelier and more sad. I’m sure we both have. I’ve had ups and downs, good days and bad. You have too. I’m a hopeless romantic and a bit nostalgic about these sorts of things. It puts me in the mind of our anniversaries to come. It’s always possible I’ll become just like the other men and forget anniversaries, but I don’t think so. I tend to remember dates that are important, like this one.

I get thoughtful about the passage of time too, particularly when one reaches that stage of life where friends are marrying, getting engaged and having babies. (Not all of them in that order.) You’re left not only solo, but almost none of those friends is actually involved or interested enough to chuckle and say “So, when’s it going to happen to YOU?”

Of course, I hope the normal feelings of jealousy and “when’s it my turn” don’t sour into envy or anger, though it can be wearying when they post of their great love and adoration for one another.

I remember one friend (one who did it right) spoke of how she could not get enough of her “everyday love.”

That’s what I want. As the years unfold and our future together washes over us, I just want that everyday love, the kind made up of precious moments we don’t even recognize at the time, the snapshots that symbolize the new life we’ll enjoy.

I can see them dimly. I can see me bending over your pregnant belly to buckle you into the passenger seat. I can imagine our first Sunday in church together as man and wife, and how I’ll keep my arm around you until it goes to sleep and then I’ll hold your hand. I can see us going out on dates even after we’re married, and singing together on the drive home. I can see us getting out and silently gazing up at the stars on a winter’s night, with you coming around the car to stand beside me. My arm will slip around your waist so comfortably and securely where it belongs, pull you close to share my warmth. A gentle and drowsy Sunday afternoon where we both settle into a nap together.

I see vacations and nurseries and hospital visits. Sickness and health, riches and poverty. Fights and families and holidays and gifts, and all the other moments I’ve inscribed on these pages.

I want that everyday love to be amazing. I want to create delirious, giddy times of joy for us, even when we’re old. I want flames and fireworks and butterflies. I want a marriage every day, a reception every afternoon, a honeymoon every night, an anniversary every weekend.

I want to relish in all of life’s joys and pains with you, together.

Until then, love. May fondest wishes find you, on whatever plot of earth your feet rest tonight.


November 21, 2012 Posted by | Promises | 3 Comments