Dear Whatever Your Name Is,

If you're reading this, that means that I probably love you very much. Enough to actually let you see all of my weird quirks, habits, and flaws. Loving me can't be easy. There are a lot of things about me that people might not like. But I hope you do.

I hope you're OK with the fact that I'm going to tell you to buy the large popcorn, then only eat the amount of a small.

I hope you're OK with me playing Frank Sinatra one minute, then Kanye West the next when were in the car.

I hope you're OK with watching every single "Harry Potter" weekend on ABC Family.

I hope you're OK with how loud and opinionated some of my family can be.

I hope you're OK with owning 14 dogs.

I hope you're OK with me counting down the days to The Oscars every single year.

I hope you're OK with the fact that my parents approval means the world to me.

I hope you're OK with not having cranberries at Thanksgiving because I'm allergic.

I hope you're OK with me not making a lot of money because I hope to be a teacher.

I hope you're OK with how stubborn, moody, and unfair I can sometimes be.

I hope you're OK with the fact that if we have kids, and they're anything like me, they won't be athletic.

I hope you're OK with having me as a partner, spouse, and above all, a best friend.

And most importantly, I hope that you're more than just "OK" with all of the little quirks I might have. I hope you do more than just deal with them. I hope you like them. I hope they're everything about me that you love the most. I hope you accept them, and me, for everything that I am.

And I hope I do the exact same for you.

I really, really, hope so.

Love,

Me