I've written eleven chapters about a life I hope to share with someone. She hasn't had a say in any of them yet. I wonder which part she'll cross out first.
There must be things she's wanted for years that haven't even occurred to me. Before we get too far into mine, I'd love to hear what she's been imagining and what I've left out.
I'm forty-one. Most of what's here has been on my mind for years, and some of it will take decades to do. I'd like to give it as much of my life as I can. Each chapter says where things stand, including the ones I've barely begun. Putting them here gives me something to come back to and account for as I go.
A few things I'm sure of: I want children, and I believe in God, though explaining that will probably take us a while. Her beliefs belong in that conversation too. She should feel comfortable telling me when she thinks I'm wrong. It would bother me to find out she'd been quietly agreeing just to get through dinner.
When she's upset, there's no need for me to immediately give her another thing to do. I'll probably have suggestions. Some might even help, but I can ask whether she wants to hear them and give her time to tell me what's happened. We may end up sitting together for a while before either of us knows what would help.
Dinner together, a walk afterward, a conversation we're still having when we get home. I can see why I'd want years of that. Even with everything else I've put in these chapters, coming home to her would be enough to make me look forward to a day when we had nothing planned.
There'll be stretches when we're tired of having the same conversation and neither of us is much fun to live with. I want her to be able to tell me she's unhappy without feeling she has to soften it to keep me there. We may take a while to work out what's wrong. I'm willing to spend that time with her.
Whatever we're working through, I won't make her the joke when we're with other people or invite an audience to take my side. She should be able to sit beside me without wondering which private frustration I'm about to make public.
I'd love to know what she'd do with ten years she could spend as she pleased. There's probably a long conversation in that question, and I doubt I'd understand all of her answer straightaway. But once I knew what mattered to her, we could look at our plans together and work out what needed to change so she had time for it.
She'll get to know me in the process, including things I might have preferred she admired me without noticing. I want to let her. Sixty years is a long time to keep trying to look good in front of someone I'd rather be close to.
I haven't met her yet. For now, these are things I can begin, promises I intend to keep, and a fair amount we'll have to talk about. I'd be glad to hear her version.
