A Letter To My Future Wife 1/4

Part 1: Becoming HP

When we first met, you were kind. I’m not saying you’re no longer kind, thats far from the truth. What I meant was, you were kind during a time that I needed kindness the most. I was introduced to you by a mutual friend you were visiting in the city. This gorgeous redhead with big blue eyes, and a smile that could light up the darkest room. We only spent about an hour together our first meeting but you laughed at my corny jokes, listened to my bullshit stories, and paid attention closely when I expressed my sadness. I was damaged. Not the person I once was, especially at that time. Someone had promised to love me forever, and then they were gone. After that and before you, I didn’t trust. I didn’t think I would ever be able to commit to anyone. I only cared for and about myself. And love? Love was what put me in the position I was in, and I never wanted to love anyone again. But like I said, that was all before you…

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That hour together, that conversation, something clicked. It didn’t feel familiar. It felt like something I had never had. And it obviously left me wanting more. When we said our goodbyes that first day, I stupidly didn’t ask you for your phone number. In all honesty, I didn’t think I would ever see you again. We were from two different worlds. You were basically a princess from the northern country while I was just a hoodlum from the Bronx. We weren’t supposed to be what we are now, where we are now. But when God wants something to happen, it happens. You had left the city and made your way back up to school in Rochester. That night I basically stalked you on Facebook. I sent you a friend request and checked every twenty minutes to see if you had accepted. Right before I went to bed, around one in the morning, I’ll never forget Facebook telling me, you and Heather are now friends. I opened the facebook chat and wrote, “Nice meeting you.” Thats it. You must’ve not been able to sleep because you wrote back almost instantly, “You too.” And so our relationship began.

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For two weeks, we would talk only on Facebook chat. Eventually we made it a point to be on at 7pm every night. I would turn the computer on at 6:55, and at 7 on the dot, there you were. We’d start at 7 and end at around ten or eleven. Every time I got off the chat with you, all I would want to do was chat with you more. Two weeks and we didn’t text or call each other, only chatted through Facebook. I figured that the chat would be the best way to get to know each other, theres more freedom in writing. We discussed everything from our families to our favorite foods. Movies we hated and the music we loved. Neither of us realizing that we were Penpals becoming Penlovers. You must’ve gotten tired of it because out the blue one night, you wanted to call me and decided to ask me for my number. I wanted to see if you were committed so I told you that every night, i’ll give you a single digit. Another full week went by, but as soon as you got that final digit, my phone rang. I looked at the monitor of my computer and realized that your initials and the brand of the computer I had were the exact same. I picked up the phone and in my coolest city voice, after three weeks of not hearing each other speak, I answered “Whats good, HP?”

 

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