To My Future Husband

Somewhere out there — God knows where —

you’re walking your own timelines,

tripping over lessons,

collecting scars like proof-of-work

for the life we’ll build.

I’m not rushing you.

But I’m not waiting in silence either.

I speak to you across the years,

like a signal fired through cold night air.

When you come, come steady.

Come with a backbone, not bravado.

Come with eyes that carry truth,

not those little-boy lies the world trains into men.

I’m a woman built from storms,

from old roads, from family shadows

that taught me to recognize real love

before it even knocks.

And when you arrive —

I won’t decorate it with fireworks.

I’ll just look at you,

and you’ll know:

this is the place you should’ve been walking toward

your whole life.

Until then,

walk strong.

Don’t get lost in cheap lights or loud rooms.

I’m here —

not waiting like a princess,

but preparing like a woman

who refuses anything less than fate.