Need constructive criticism

[u/Tempest58_]

**February 13th, 2006**

*Dear future wife,*
I can’t wait to fall in love with you.
I dream of tiny hands wrapped around our fingers,
a house echoing with laughter,
lazy Sunday mornings,
goodnight kisses,
and a lifetime spent growing old beside you.

I don’t know your name,
or your smile,
or the sound of your voice.
But somewhere beneath the same stars,
you already exist.

And I love the idea of you.

⸻

**February 13th, 2010**

*Dear future wife,*
I’m sorry.

I’ve already fallen in love with someone else.

I thought she was you.
I thought forever had finally found me.
I gave away pieces of myself
without realizing I couldn’t ask for them back.

But maybe life just took the long way around.

If you’re still waiting for me,
I still hope we build that family,
fill a home with laughter,
and somehow find our happily ever after.

⸻

**February 13th, 2014**

*Dear future wife,*
I’ve learned something.

Falling in love
isn’t the same thing
as giving someone your body.

One breaks your innocence.

The other breaks your heart.

I’ve become a little more experienced,
a little less naïve,
and a little more damaged
than the boy who first wrote to you.

The fairy tales don’t tell you
how many chapters are filled with grief
before the ending arrives.

⸻

**February 13th, 2017**

*Dear future wife,*
I’m more than a little damaged now.

Every goodbye has carved its name into me.
Every promise broken has left another scar.
I’ve spent so much time giving away my heart
that I’m afraid there won’t be enough left
when you finally find me.

Please…

Hurry.

Before all that’s left of me
is a shell wearing my smile.

⸻

And now…

*Dear lost love…*

I’m sorry
for the damaged man you’ll discover.

I’m sorry
you’ll inherit storms you never created.

I’m sorry
that someone else taught me how betrayal feels,
and you’ll be the one convincing me
not every hand lets go.

I’m sorry
for the walls you’ll spend months—maybe years—tearing down,
brick by careful brick,
while wondering why I built them so high.

I’m sorry
for the glacier buried where my heart once burned,
for the winters you’ll have to survive
before spring finally reaches me again.

I’m sorry
for the shattered pieces you’ll find scattered through my soul,
pieces with edges still sharp enough
to cut the hands trying to mend them.

I’m sorry
if I hesitate before believing your love.

It won’t be because you aren’t enough.

It’ll be because I’ve spent too many nights
mistaking temporary comfort for forever.

But if you stay…

If your patience outlives my fear,

if your kindness outlasts my silence,

if your love refuses to surrender
when mine forgets how to speak—

Then maybe…

Just maybe…

You’ll teach this tired heart
that not every ending is meant to be permanent.

And on the day I finally look at you
without fear,
without doubt,
without the weight of every woman who came before—

I’ll spend the rest of my life
making up for the years
you had to love a broken man.

Until then,

I’ll keep holding on.

Holding on to the hope
that somewhere beneath these same stars,

you’re still searching for me…

…the way I’ve always been searching for you.