You are my future husband.
I love everything about you, your smile, your humor, your prematurely balding hair, your intellect, your crooked smile, your spirit, but most importantly your hug. The way it truly has the power to draw emotions out of me I never thought possible is remarkable. The way you wrap your arms around me the more I wish you would never let go. Oh and the way that exact same hug knows how to quiet my restless soul; my problems disappear for that brief moment. You’re everything I wish for. My deepest fear is that I will never find anyone as perfect for me as you. This is my deepest secret: that when you ask me to describe my future husband, I describe YOU in hopes that you will notice we are perfect for each other. Our families, our lifestyles, our dreams, our hopes, our wants, are identical.
I couldn’t be more proud to call you my friend, but I also couldn’t be more sad to call you the same. There is only one reason that is holding me back from telling you all of this, and it pains me more than anything in this world; God has called you to be a priest, and you’re entering your fifth year at the seminary. I wish you the best, but everyday I wonder why we’re not together.
You’ll never know.