A love letter to my future man.

Written on a solo camp trip.

A letter to you,

The fire crackles, the bugs chirp, the occasional fish swims to the surface of the water making a sound similiar to dropping a coin in a wishing well. But it’s quiet. And while I wish you were here, I’m grateful that I will get to have these experiences twice. Once by myself and then again with you.

You took a little longer to arrive than I had hoped, but I learned to stop comparing my journey to others. I like believing that the universe has a different plan for all of us. And somewhere, right now in the world, you are probably thinking of me too.

I am grateful for all of the years I spent single. If I had met you earlier, I may have not joined the Peace Corps (actually, I would have probably convinced you to come with me). Instead, I went alone. Life had other plans, as it usually does, and it took me to the beach to experience the healing effects of nature, date some sun-kissed beach bums, and reclaim my sense of self after a traumatic sexual assault.

But, I never stay anywhere for too long, so off to flight attendant training I went. I made a special friendship with a pilot. He took me camping in the Adirondacks, where again, I had an epiphany in nature. Flight attending was not my true calling, it was time to head back to the beach and prepare for grad school. I was 28, and feeling like I had finally arrived, I met my first love. It was a sweet, kind, and healing love. My heart, soul, and body expanded in ways I did not know were possible. I also learned that love is not enough. I gained clarity on finding a partner with shared values and a shared vision. See, I needed all of this in order to be ready for you!

After that breakup, I learned to date myself. I moved around the country, finished grad school, and then headed out to the wilderness in Wyoming for three weeks. Cut off from contact with the outside world, I was able to get pretty clear on what I wanted. That is when things started happening. I moved West, dated some unavailable men (and no, you cannot change them), and went on a lot of fun and ridiculous dates. I even started to write a book, but didn’t want to be in the energy of making a joke out of dating (although damn, it is FUNNY! And I will still write the book).

So, here I am, sitting by the fire, realizing that it has taken all of this to bring me to you.

I appreciate every moment of aloneness, longing, and desire.

I appreciate every date that brought me one step closer to you.

I appreciate every experience I once had alone.

Now, I am ready to have it twice with you.

Love,

me.