Beautiful girl, wherever you are...
To whom it may concern,
If John Mayer could do it in a song, I figured I could take it to a whole 'nother level in prose.
I don’t know how you’d take it, but over a year before you or I even contemplated marriage, I already booked a church for you and I on this date, 12 December, 2012. It’s our last chance to have a wedding date as symbolic as this until 12 December, 2112, which I doubt either of us would live to see. Given that we’re together, I’d like to think that you and I are both sentimental fools who would certainly want nothing more than a date like that. At worst, I doubt I’d ever forget an anniversary as significant as 12/12/12 no matter how senile I may get.
But hey, don’t get me wrong: this is a wedding proposal, and that means you're free to reject me and break my heart into a million pieces. I’d be the last person to force anyone into something they don’t want to do, and quite honestly, it may strike you as a bit strange that I would do this, but I figured that being married on 12/12/12 would mean as much to you as it would to me.
As I write this right now, I have no idea who you are, or if I’d actually just be wasting at least half a hundred grand on a church I would never get to use by the end of it all. All I know is that you would probably feel overwhelmed at all the effort I’m putting out for someone whom I may not have even met yet, if only to give you a special day and arguably the luckiest three numbers of this century.
And that’s really how crazy love is. I’m a hopeless romantic at heart, and while some people may find it weird or even pathetic, those who know me would realize that it’s a sincere and grand gesture coming from a very good place. I’m building this future for someone, because by the time that future becomes my present, it would all be worth it just to see the look in her eyes to know that I anticipated her all this time, and I stopped at nothing to give her the wedding date of the century – not even her apparent non-existence in my life while I write this.
All I know is, by the time all of this becomes reality, I will be loving you more than I have ever loved anyone else, and will be more than willing to keep it that way for the rest of my life. Maybe we’ve been friends for years, or we just met a few days ago from when I publish this, or I will meet you tomorrow from when I publish this, or you came back into my life just when I thought you were going to be just a memory, but it’s not the gesture or the number or the church I’ve reserved for us way before I should’ve that I hope you take away from all of this. It would be my willingness to do this for someone who will receive all the love I’ve had to give all my life. The kind of love I’ve been longing to shower upon someone who could love me as well, imperfections, quirks, and sappiness not aside, but well-accepted as part and parcel of who I am.
So to my dearest future bride, if you do exist and exist in time for this wonderful once-in-a-century date, I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty of making this special, although really, none of this is really special unless you say “yes.” One word. Three letters. That takes on far more meaning than a very early reservation for a church for a would-be bride I have yet to be with.
Or perhaps, I could simply be fooling myself into thinking that I will find you. It matters not. This world is filled with cynics and misers, myself included, and lest I get swept into that Einerlei of cynicism and misery, I choose to keep just one beacon of hope lit in my heart for you. Whoever you are. Wherever you are. Whenever you are.
And so to you, my dearest, my most beloved, I give to you my heart, my soul, my world, my everything. All you need do is come into my life and accept it.