Just Love Me For Who I Eventually Will Be

Pictured: Your Lover, Ted

Darling, I'm penning this letter with a feeling of heaviness on my chest, similar to the sensation you must feel when you have one of your trademark asthma attacks. See -- we know so much about each other. I know that you get asthma attacks that you believe are probably caused by the cat hair in my apartment, and you probably remember me explaining that what's giving you your asthma isn't the cat hair itself, but rather the cat's saliva or dander.

Why would two people who so intimately know each other want to change? I don't know, dear. I certainly don't want you to change. I've thought you were perfect ever since the first time I saw you, last night standing near the door at single's night. You claimed you were just there to pick up your sister and that you didn't know where the hell she was, and I admired your coyness. Then, after a few minutes, you asked if I wanted to hit a bar, since you were so pissed off and could use someone to give you a ride home later after you blew off the steam through intoxication, which you probably remember from our conversation early this morning is harmful to your brain, and that I think you should probably stop it in the near future. Still, I admired your forthrightness.

Is that even a word, "forthrightness"? I don't know, but I might someday. And that's exactly the point.

Because, while you say that you can't really spend any more time with me because we're not compatible, and that last night was just an exception, I can tell you with confidence that at some point in the future, we will be compatible. We'll probably even be soul mates. I don't believe in love at first sight, but I do believe in love forming slowly and gradually over time, like the Grand Canyon, or a beautiful statue carved out of tough granite, or the feelings that blossomed between Vash the Stampede and that one insurance girl in Trigun that I was telling you about. I don't mean to lecture you, honey, but you really need to stop being so superficial and see me for the person who I will one day become.

You have to realize that these problems you have with me are temporary. You might hate the way I lovingly draw hearts on your back in the wee hours of the morning, or even the way I explain to you after drawing them that they are symbols of our love. But I'm sure there will come a day when I don't draw those hearts, and instead whisper sweet nothings in your ear about breakfast in bed, and walks in the park, and meeting your parents and not really liking them very much, but feigning interest for your sake. For the sake of our love. For someone who says she has been very patient with me, sweetheart, you're displaying a remarkable lack of it right now.

I'm not saying that's all you don't like about me. I never claimed to be a perfect woman like you are, and there are some habits I have that you must deal with as I naturally get rid of them over time. I realize that I move my lips after I'm done speaking sometimes, or while you are speaking, as if I am unconsciously trying to say what you're saying. Personally I think this is a sign that I love you, but if you don't like it, it's gone, eventually. I can get rid of things in my personality just as easily as I can get rid of my unibrow, which is something else that I will do for you, my sweet, when I can get around to it.

Think of how you can present me to your friends after these changes occur, like a hunter proudly displaying his giant deer that he shot and killed, ruthlessly and murderously, without regard for that deer's feelings or current way of life. "This is my boy-toy, Ted," you'll say, as your friends feel the bitter stench of jealousy and my new cologne that you bought for me just for this occasion. "He whispers in my ear at night, and he cooks me dinner in the evenings." Yes, I will cook you dinner. I have a cookbook on my wishlist at Amazon, and I am planning on buying it after I have my samauri sword replica paid off. I'm sorry, honey. I bought it before us.

Our prospect of love, and of more sessions of love in the future, is too great for you to walk away from, dear. That's all I'm saying. You don't just meet someone who will eventually be perfect for you every day. It's time we give up this facade and let our natural urges take hold of us. I know I have, and, eventually, you will, too.

Ted will one day be your lover. Just believe him.

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