I want something where we can’t bear a single day without each other, where being apart physically hurts. Where you’d give anything just for my touch, where when we are together the rest of the world fades away. Where desire pulls you toward me instinctively, and where closeness feels magnetic, almost obsessive.
I want something where your greatest joy is seeing me happy, where my success is something you’re genuinely proud of, where my wins feel like yours, and my struggles matter just as much as your own. I want something fierce, consuming, passionate, funny, and wildly alive—and yet grounded and safe, I want it’s exciting and peaceful at the same time.
A love where I don’t even notice other men exist, and you only have eyes for me. Actually, I want the most beautiful women to try to take you, and I want to be confident that they can’t, and I want to be sure that I cannot be tempted either. And I want that no matter what kind of hell we’ve walked through, no matter what comes in the package, we meet each other with the same deep trust and almost childlike innocence—as if nothing bad had ever happened, as if the world had never broken us. I want us to be brave enough to plan a lifetime together, unafraid to imagine the future, unafraid to see it reflected in each other’s eyes.
I want a love that burns hot, sets me on fire—but doesn’t burn me down.
I want to feel the moment I see you, that I’m home, I’ve arrived. That this insane, chaotic world is a more beautiful place simply because somewhere in it, you exist.
I want you to be strong enough that you could hurt me if you wanted to—and for me to know, with absolute certainty, that you never would.
I want to know that I love you so deeply I would die for you—but instead, I choose to live for you.
I want to feel that I could kill for you, but instead I train for you, I sleep for you, I eat for you well and regularly, I study for, I grow for you, so that with every single day I become a better, more worthy partner to you and we have decades to still live together, even if we’ve met later in our lives. I want to support you in every way I can so you can do the same.
I want to look up to you and know you are smarter than me. Maybe that’s the hardest thing, but one of the most important: I want to keep things interesting. I never want to feel bored next to you. I don’t want to watch TV because I don’t have anything to say to you, or even worse: I don’t want to stay silent when I have so much to say, but for some reason I decided not to.
I want you to accept that I’m wildly impulsive and intelligent and silly at the same time, and I want you to be my guiding light when this combination takes the toll on me.
I want to be able to share my past with you, but don’t let it define how we bond.
I want you to gently guide me when I’m zigzagging through the endless possibilities of my life, never making decisions for me—but be my fortress, my anchor, and keep asking questions until I find my answers. Then I want us to discuss how we can align my answers with yours. I want us to always make time for each other, and I want to make plans with you. I want to brainstorm again and again, discussing all the ideas and scenarios. And I want you, in some of my delusions, not to be the voice of reason, but my companion, sometimes even more reckless than I am.
I want to trust every one of your decisions. I want to have no secrets from you, I want to be an open book in front of you, I want you to be able to cope with my darkest thoughts, and I want you to be able to handle my craziest ones. I want you to love me at my most miserable, and love me the same when half the world is celebrating me.
I want you to save my work when I fall asleep on the sofa with my computer, and carry me to bed, or come, cover me, and sleep next to me in the living room. I want you to kiss goodnight to Eliott every night and give him belly rubs every morning. I want you to spoil him and let him jump on the bed. I don’t want you to get offended when I want to spend time alone or away.
I want you to love me passionately, but that love should not depend on my appearance. I wish to be the most beautiful woman in your eyes even when I wake up with messy hair, when my face is creased by the pillow, or when my eyes are red from crying or puffy from an all-nighter.
I want you to laugh when I suddenly throw the bed out, blaming it for my sleepless nights —not to get mad, just LOL with me, at me, whatever—Just laugh and help me buy a new one so I can continue not sleeping in it.
I want the words quirky, nut job, and silly goose to sound like the most beautiful confession when it’s you who says them.
I never want to run from you, but if I ever do, I want you to let me go with the brutal confidence that I’ll find my way back anyway.
Stay awake with me when I have nightmares, and let me stay awake with you when something keeps you from sleeping at night. Don’t try to fix me or fix it, because it can’t be fixed, just be there with me, and let me calm down simply because you are beside me.
I want you to never—ever—ask me to share my location, but to let me share it when I choose to. I want you to love my dog, my family, and my friends as I do, and for it to be obvious that I care for yours just as much own.
I want us to save the world together—fostering dreams, a mission, and a purpose so we are part of something greater than ourselves. I hope our conversations never become mundane or dull. I want you to always hold my hand, effortlessly, without even thinking—just reaching out instinctively and keeping me close to you all the time.
I want you to never tire of reading my writing. I want you to stay curious forever. I want you to always listen to what I have to say, even if it’s the stupidest, craziest, insane bullshit or something really smart about the future of medicine and healthcare. I want you to be my biggest cheerleader — the loudest on the outside and the most steadfast of all, but don’t be afraid to challenge me or criticize my work when it’s just the two of us, with only the pure intention to help me improve. Be my constant inspiration to grow.
I want you to stubbornly believe in me, believe in yourself with the same stubbornness, and absolutely believe in us. Let’s go to places we’ve never been before and discover them together, and take me to places you know well—places you love and want to show me too.
Let us melt into each other while remaining fully ourselves.
We may argue and clash, but our belonging to each other must never be doubted or used as a threat.
And if I occasionally panic under the weight of everything and ask you, what if this doesn’t work? tell me that then we try again, and if I ask, what if it still doesn’t work? tell me that then we try again, and remind me that we have a lifetime to keep trying, again and again. and to keep choosing each other again and again.
I want you to know that when I show up with my fierce standards, I have already asked myself whether I can offer the same. Even when life is lifeing, and things are not romantic or dreamy, I will still be there. When you forget your fire, lose your path, I will sit with you in it and hold the line until you rise again. I’m happy to understand and accept your quirky little flaws, and I enjoy learning how to step into each other’s worlds until they become our universe.
My grandmother always told me, “Marry someone who is ready to wipe your ass when you break both of your hands.” Well, just so you know, I really do hope that, from now on, I’m speaking metaphorically, but I would do it. We would probably laugh so hard we accidentally break your legs too, and I would definitely overheat the towel, scorch your skin, and throw in some smart-ass commentary while I’m at it, but I would do it. I mean, I would prefer our love to be a little bit more holy, a little bit less horrifying, but whatever, you know what I mean.
Also, I don’t care how many cars you buy, as long as I can buy the same amount from Aussies, and your cars are my cars, and my Aussies are your Aussies, and we give the name I chose to the baby goat. It will be either too fancy for a goat or a ridiculously ugly one. Anyway, probably I talk too much, so this love letter should come to an end.
Quick sum up: Be my everything, and let me be yours. Honestly, I think EVERYTHING is all I’ve ever wanted. Is that too much to ask for? 😇
One day, at the dog park, a pup will turn to your son and say,“You’re just like your dad.”
Your job is to make sure it’s not an insult.
