Don't wait for me.

Hey, babely future husband.

     Over the last decade, I have had so many hopes for who you are and who we would be together. Some of those hopes have matured into a fine wine of dreams, others withered away with wisdom over time. I have always hoped you are doing well, that you lean into Him wholeheartedly, and that it won't be long until we do this thing.

But, at this point in my life, this has changed: I hope you aren't waiting for me.

     I used to hope you kept yourself living a small and conservative life until we met, and then we'd take on the world at each other's side. But damn. There is so much life to take hold of. There are so many beautiful humans to pour into. I hope you are taking those dives, leaning into those relationships, and truly investing in your experiences. I hope to meet you feeling stretched and scattered from giving out of yourself so fully. I hope you're having important moments with people you have chosen to do life with. In this way, I hope I don't find you perfectly whole and in-tact. I hope you haven't protected yourself from heartache or vulnerability. I hope you have been profoundly broken, burnt to ash at least once in your life. That you've been undone. That you have experienced your own death and rebirth.

     I hope you've taken a chance on love. I hope you've given someone your everything to try to make things work. I hope you've felt the thrill of love, its magic, its madness. You'll know it when you feel it. I hope it settled into a steady ebb and flow, that you did the boring and tedious tasks as well. I hope you were comfortable and felt safe. I hope you got your hands dirty and pulled your hair out in conflict, wearing yourself thin in attempts to work through hardships. I hope you've felt the resounding loss of moving forward without someone. I hope God had to carry you, breathe for you, nurse you back to health. I hope you are well aware of the ocean of grief.

     I hope for all these things because they are signs that you are a fierce fighter, and an even fiercer lover. They mean you show up. They mean you speak up. They mean you put skin in the game. They mean you take hits and pull yourself up from the floor, still willing to let yourself be moved and be seen. They mean you understand what it takes, and that you have what it takes. For life, for love, and for life and love with me.

     There are galaxies of thoughts, multiverses of feelings, and laundry lists of quirks within me. I am a Grand Canyon of complexities, contradictions, and mysteries that I don't even understand. I am someone you have to fully engage with, someone you can never truly know unless you let both feet leave the ground to reach for me. I take patience and perseverance to fully grasp. I am a vast estate with trees and rivers and intuitive wildlife, a huge house with grand ballrooms and dusty libraries with nooks and crannies, with thoughtful words written on every page of every book on every shelf. To live with me is to live within me. I am no small feat. You have to grab me by the horns and put your back into it.

     So grab life by the horns and put your back into it. Don't wait for me. Don't wait for me to invest, to take a chance, to love, to grieve, to make life-changing decisions and memories. We'll only find each other if we're both showing up to life. So don't wait. Show up.

     Can't wait to kiss your face. See you soon.
     Katelyn