Letters To My Future Husband: Letter #10

Dear Mr. Melissa Blake:

[Photo courtesy of fffound]

I broke down and watched The Curious Case of Benjamin Button over the weekend. I vowed I’d never see the movie, seeing as I just don’t understand all the damn hype about Brad Pitt (he probably doesn’t hold a candle to your cuteness), but, like all things pop culture, I just had to give in.

The movie was good, but the message underneath all the Brad Pitt “eye candy” really struck a nerve with me. At one point in the film, the love of his life (played by another one of my least faves, Cate Blanchett), questions how he could love her when she’s so old and wrinkly.

His reply? “Not on the inside,” meaning he saw beneath the layered surface, beyond those superficialities, beyond the physical body, beyond everything that, frankly, didn’t matter in the end. Isn’t that ultimately what everyone wants in the end? Not just to hear those words, but to know the person speaking them means every ounce of it?

I know you mean it; heck, you wouldn’t be my husband if you didn’t, that’s for sure. But I just wonder – too often, probably – how long it’s going to take me to find you. All I ever want is for someone to see me without seeing me. Does that make any sense? Yes, I want someone to look at me, but I don’t want them to be repulsed, horrified or otherwise afraid of my outer package. I suppose I am somewhat vulnerable when it comes to showing people my scars, afraid of what they will think, afraid I’m some sort of deformed freak. So why can’t people see me for who I am beyond all that stuff? Maybe they do, and I just don’t notice. Or maybe part of me simply doesn’t want to notice because they would mean making myself vulnerable. I’m sure you learned early on just how much I thrive on being in control. Who knows, maybe it was one of the things that first attracted you into my web.

I guess at the end of the day, the question always is: If I want to truly love someone – and that involves seeing into their soul – why does it seem like that’s such a hard thing for men to do for me? And, what made you any different from the rest of them?

I must admit, I’m getting more and more anxious to find out the answers.

xoxo,