Dear You,

When this all started, I bet you thought it was a lost cause, that sooner or later I was going to disappoint you, or that maybe you would break my heart because you just couldn't be bothered to open up.

I bet you put a timer on me, just waiting to see if I was going to throw in the towel, walk away. Because every guy who came before had a rolled up line of fuse that burnt out sooner or later, a whole plethora of duds who wasted your time and gave you pause when it came to opening your heart to anything that could possibly hurt you.

I bet you thought you had me all figured out, too. Like some open-paged book that you'd read a million times before, predictable in nuances and bland thought processes.

I bet you thought this was just going to be a meanwhile thing that you could kick aside sooner or later, something you could forget about in a year or so.

I bet you didn't expect what came from that one night following a marathon of Youtube videos and shared side glances split apart by a boy who was just so excited to see someone new.

I bet you didn't expect me to fall in love. Not with you, no. With pacing and cross eyes, with hand holding around bees and the fear that blasts through out of nowhere. With the "bless yous" that can be heard from outside the house because sneezes can be heard anywhere.

I bet you didn't expect me to fall in love with tucking in, and putting to bed the two little creations that look so much like you, you may as well have spit them out.

I bet you didn't expect me to fall in love with cat videos and random experiments, long drives for no reason, and exploring new places that just might have trains. You probably thought they would be pushed aside, background noise, the white static in my vision.

I bet you thought that they'd come second to you every time.

I bet you didn't expect me to fall in love with the conspiracy theory that it's all the mold. Everything makes us sick because mold is flying through the air. I bet you gambled that I would see exactly where you came from and jump ship because God knows that even you have a hard time dealing with where you came from.

I bet you didn't expect me to fall in love with 'just a sip for the thrush' or the little eccentric things that drive you up the walls.

I bet you thought I'd have booked it, ripping my hair out by now.

But what you probably never expected was the way I fell for your fury. The burning anger you seem to have at your side like a coat of arms, the fire you lash out at those who you think may do you damage, I bet you didn't expect me to fall for the way it singed the hair on my arms when you brushed me with it the very first time.

I bet that when you did, you started counting down the days, the hours, hell even the minutes to when I would pack my bags and walk out the door, not looking back because people have told you too often than you are too hot, that you burn too bright, that you could blind someone, scald them with your words and actions.

But I bet you no one ever told you about boys like me.

No one ever told you that men exist who will always do their best to make you happy. No one told you men exist who will hold you all night long just to make you feel safe. There were fairy tales, sure. But that's all they really were, right? Because no one told you about the boy who came from a broken home and wanted one of his own to always keep whole. No one told you a man could exist who would come to restore the tattered pages in your book and write all new chapters with you. Men like that didn't just come along, they were in ink and paint, they didn't come to reality, you had to do it all on your own because no man would save you.

Well... I bet no one would've guessed we would wind up where we are. I bet no one thought I'd get down on one knee and ask you to spend your life with me. I bet no one told you you'd find someone who helps with everything he can whenever he can, and always when you need it. I bet no one predicted that the sun would fall for the moon. And that some days, it's hard to tell who is which.

So if we were to tally all of these bets, do you think I'd be rich? But if that's the case, wouldn't we be set? Is it not nice to know that even though I placed all my cards on you and you may not have done the same for me that there was faith, to begin with?

Well, let me make some more bets for you.

I bet that you'll wake up every day and roll over to me, that you'll never have to know what an empty bed is like ever again. I bet that even on days where you look in the mirror and judge every imperfect inch of your body, counting the flaws and changes like some godawful measure of time taking its tolls, I will kiss every piece of you like reverent lost art and get dizzy in the softness of your touch. I bet that when you get tired, I'll still be ready to do more, to carry you when your legs give out. I bet that when you need a best friend, I'll be that and your lover, too.

I bet that when our grandkids ask you if you believe in fairy tales, you're going to look at me one day. I bet that you'll tell them you may not believe in fairy tales in their entirety. But happily ever afters... Well, I bet you'll tell them you believe everyone gets those.

Lastly, I bet when you read this, you'll shove my face from yours while I weigh your reaction on baited breath, hoping you'll crack that million and one dollar smile and tell me how stupid I am before you strangle me with your choke hold of a hug, the one that suffocates and breathes life into my bones all at once.

I bet I'll fall in love all over again, and you will too.

Love,

Me.