Dear future lover,
I am not easy to love.
I am unworthy. I will shower you in affection and yet feel as though I do not deserve yours
I am destructive. I will cry and scream and call myself horrible names because something, everything, is all my fault.
I am worried. I live each day feeling as though one day you will be gone, left for a girl easier to love.
I am irritating. I will talk and talk and talk about whatever it is I'm interested in and just hope that you share my enthusiasm.
I am fragile. My heart is easily broken, and I've lost the instructions for how to reassemble it.
I am angry. The world has not been kind to me, and it's left me bitter and rough around the edges.
But despite these faults, I can promise you my undying devotion.
I offer my heart, though it is cracked and full of sorrow.
I offer my hand, though it is scarred and calloused.
I offer my mind, though it is scattered and full of silly ideas.
I offer my soul, though it is weary and battered.
And I hope, when we meet, that you will treasure me, as I will treasure you.
Your future wife.