Friday, March 30, 2012 @ 6:05 PM

I hope she knows how you like your coffee in the morning, the way you prefer it more black than white, and not sweet enough;

the way you wake up easily at night at the slightest sound of a tip toe or the restless shifting of another next to you in bed;

and how to make you laugh until you can’t see your eyes, gets to know the lines they create around the edges of your face, like they are the rings you count on trees to see their age, except she could count how many the times your mouth curved upwards instead,

like I once did, maybe better than I ever did.

I hope she knows how any bet you take will end in winning with kisses, and no matter what, how your gentlemanly ways with others never means she’s not number one (something I now wish I didn’t struggle with);

and when you talk about the places you’ve never been, I hope she makes every plan she can to take you there, anywhere, everywhere, even if it’s to a museum with a floor full of dinosaurs in a city you’ve lived in all your life. And I hope it’s an adventure every time, the kind you’ve been searching for, needing all your life.

And if you find her, when you finally find her, I hope that she will be right, and right the wrongs of all our past and make you happy in ways I never knew how—in ways I sometimes still wish I could have had time to figure out;

but that doesn’t matter now and I hope she knows that when you meet, that to let go of our history was only for the best, for you to be able to start again, and for my heart to finally mend.

source: 52hearts