On the Flipside

Dear Soul-mate,

I have not met you yet.

I do not know how many years this letter has travelled to reach your hands. I do not know how old I am, right now, as you read this, but I do know you are worth the wait.

I do not know how we met. If a mutual friend introduced us or if we just so happened to get off at the same terminus, or borrowed the same book by accident thanks to a computer error we would later chalk up to fate. But I do know I am thankful for it.

I do not know where we had our first kiss. I do not know if I asked for your permission. I do not know if you are taller than me. I do not know the smoothness of your lips, the brush of your tongue. I do not know if you held me first, if I smoothed out your jawline with my fingers, if you moaned at all. I do not know your kiss. But I do know you are my favourite treat.

I do not know your hands. I do not know how quickly they slip into mine, if they are burnt from childhood accidents, if they are always cold even in the summer, if they rest on my knee during loud and rowdy dinner parties. I do not know how it feels to have them exploring my body, or reaching for me at night, or holding onto me in moments of weakness. But I do know that when I think you are asleep, I kiss your knuckles. I must.

I do not know how we were married; if I went down on a knee, if you asked me with tears in your eyes. I do not know if it was a ‘Yes!’ or a smile and the answer wordlessly understood. I do not know our wedding budget, if it was in a church or city hall, the length of our wedding cake. I do not know Our Song. I do not know who witnessed our cheesy celebration. I do not know if it was cheesy at all. But I do know I must have sobbed like a baby.

babies

I do not know if we have children. I do not know if we have been blessed with a sustainable housing income, if we have moved to a suburb. I do not know if we have a son, or a daughter, or both, or neither. I do not know if they are in good health, if I have taught them how to bike-ride, or read, or write their name for the first time. But I do know I would go to the ends of the Earth for our family.

I do not know your essence. I do not know your scent on lukewarm bedsheets. I do not know your heart rate in the early morning, I do not know the shade your skin flushes under my touch. But I do know you fit perfectly in my hands, every time.

My dear soul-mate; alas I do not think I have met you yet.
But I want to.
And I cannot wait to fall in love with you.