Dear Future Lover Of Mine, I Hope I Don’t Meet You Anytime Soon

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Dear You,

I don’t know your name. I don’t know who you are or where you are or when we will ever meet. I don’t know whether or not you are already in my life somewhere. I don’t even know if you exist in this lifetime. I’d like to believe you’re walking this earth someplace, but sometimes I’m not sure if I even believe in the idea of fate and romance anymore. Maybe you can save me from myself.

If you are in this lifetime and on this planet though, I hope I don’t meet you anytime soon. I have a lot to learn and I will probably hurt you, because I don’t know yet that you are the one who will make me happy.

I’ve been through a lot. But while I wish you could have been there with me, I know you will be proud of me because of how strong I turned out to be and all the things I made it through without you. See, I had to be alone for a while so I’d know what I’m capable of. And so I’d appreciate having someone like you more.

I like being single right now because all my time is mine. I need to be single for a while so I will not regret not having this kind of freedom in the future. When I’m yours, I’ll be completely yours because I had this time to be mine.

But sometimes I miss being in love. There are days when I wish you can get here faster just so I can have the kind of love that I’ve been waiting for since what feels like forever. But I guess it’s better that you’re not here yet because I don’t know how to be with you right now. I’ll probably say a lot of really stupid things and scare you away.

You won’t just be the love of my life, you will also be my best friend in the world. I’d always thought of all my old loves as best friends at the time, but I don’t think I ever really knew what that meant. I love that I will be able to tell you anything and everything and know that you will be the one person in the world who understands.

We won’t always get along and we will more-than-possibly get into some really ugly fights, but I know that in the end, we can make it through because nothing is more important than learning and growing together.

We are probably different people with diverse interests, and that’s a good thing. We will make time for what is important to the other because we like making each other happy. Of course, there will be things that we enjoy doing together. We will spend some days curled up with a blanket and books or popcorn and a good movie. Braveheart will always be a favorite between us, and reruns of FRIENDS will take up some of our lazy Sundays. But we will spend most of our time going around the world together, seeing places we’ve only once dreamed of traveling to.

We both love to talk and laugh, and we will spend a lot of our time getting to know each other. Even when we’ve been together 20 years, we will always find something new about the other or reminisce about the people we once had to be to get there. And while I will probably roll my eyes at your jokes, I will also smile just because it’s so cute how you tried to tell the punch line.

You’ve probably loved a girl (or more) before me, and that’s okay. I’m sorry though if you’ve gotten hurt and I wasn’t there to make you feel better. I’ve been in love before you, too, and I’ve also gotten my heart broken and feel like nobody could really understand. It will take a long time before I can let anyone else in again, and maybe you feel the same way. It will be better to find each other after going through all that, just so we will both know how to not take being in love for granted.

We’ve both become better people separately, something I will always be thankful for. And because of all the pain we have to go through before we meet, we will both realize then that we deserve that happiness and we deserve each other.

I don’t know what you look like but I know you have kind eyes and a genuine smile. I don’t know what you do for a living but I know that you will have time for me. I don’t know you, but I know that you can give me hug when I’m down, hold my hand for no reason and kiss me just because you love me.

There’s a possibility though, that you don’t exist, and I’m writing this letter for no one. But in spite of all the cynicism I’m entitled to, I have to believe that you’re out there somewhere. I have to believe that all the heartache I’d ever had to endure will someday lead me to you. I have to believe that God created you because He knew I would need you. And while I know I’m a complete person on my own, I have to believe that someone like you exists, someone who might not complete me, but can make life better. More beautiful. More colorful. A man who can make me believe in love again.

I don’t know who you are or if I’ll ever find you, but I wish with all my heart that you’re out there, waiting, just like I am.

I know that someday I will find you. In this lifetime, or the next, I will find you.Yours (someday),

Me 

Originally published by Thought Catalog at www.thoughtcatalog.com

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry, I haven't had time to write anything for this lately, but I'll be better about it. In the meantime, this is one of my pieces on Thought Catalog that I'm proudest of. I wrote it for the man I hope to meet one day, and for every single person out there, male or female, who still believes in love.

Why I Write

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I write because I can.

I write because when life makes it so difficult to be real, this is the only way I know how to be completely honest.

I write because I love it and because there are so many things worth writing about.

I write to be heard. For even just one other reader out there who gives a damn about the relatively coherent thoughts that my fingers type out.

But most of all, I write for me.

"We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect."― Anaïs Nin

I grew up in love with the art of writing. I wrote anything from pretentious poems to fan fiction to short stories to essays―everything. 

Eventually I took that love and made my way to a degree in Journalism, which gave me a wake up call.

I would never get rich by writing. It's not that I don't care about bigger issues in the world, but I had no business writing about the things that matter: economy, politics and news, because I didn't understand them. I was afraid to be told that I had no business writing.

So I retired by virtual pen for a few years, trading it in for a corporate attire and a respectable nine-to-five.

And I thought I loved it. I was good at what I did, and I had a career path that would make my family proud.

To an extent, I still love it. But it isn't me. It never was and might never be.

Over a year ago, I experienced the worst heart break of my life (which isn't actually saying much in retrospect, seeing as I'm only 20-something).

For a year, I felt hopeless. I had thoughts and feelings that I had no way of letting out. I tried to drink it out, party it out, smoke it out, cry it out and ignore it altogether.

So a few months ago, I opened a new Word document and began to write. My fingers moved across the keyboard faster that I'd ever seen it. I was no longer composing a random piece. I was pouring my heart and soul out into it, my ink being the thoughts I was afraid to say out loud, the words I could never form right, the feelings I could finally release.

That piece came out on Thought Catalog. It only reached a handful of people, and even fewer took the time to leave comments and send me direct messages. Messages that thanked me for writing, that told me to keep writing because I was good at it.

One after another, I wrote article after article, having ten posted on the website within a month. I couldn't stop.

And I no longer intend to.

Writing again was like waking up after a long, restless sleep. I never want to sleep again.

It's no longer about making money off my writing or reaching one million people through my words. It's become irrelevant what I should or shouldn't write because of what people would say.

I write for me. About life, about love, about real experiences that other people may not care about. But I will keep writing because this is what I was meant to do and what I love to do. And I'm putting this out there in the hopes of reaching even just one other person out there among the billions who live. One other person who wants to write, who wants to read. Who wants to be heard.

I'd always known I had a skill in writing, a skill that I acquired through years of writing electives. Recently, I was told that it wasn't a skill. It was a talent. And I'm sorry if this comes off arrogantly, but now I know it's true.

And if I was lucky enough to have been granted such a talent, how terribly selfish would it be for me to stop writing just because of fear?

My name is Katrina Tamondong, and until recently, I was only ever a corporate drone.

Now I am a writer. A simple person with no great acts to my name, no talent worth millions to speak of, no beauty society would exploit. Just an ordinary human being who has once loved and lived an average life. Who still does. An ordinary writer who writes about simple ordinary things.

But why do I write?

Because I can. Because I want to. Because I love to.

Because this is what I was meant to do.