“Dear Future Husband” by Meghan Trainor

This is probably my favorite track from Meghan Trainor’s EP, although the title track, “Title,” is also pretty great.  They all are, really.  But there’s something about this song that just makes me smile.  Maybe it’s because I’m getting married.

Because, here’s the thing – it’s easy to say all of these things when you’re single and having a good time.  It’s nice to think that, one day, you’ll get flowers every year on your anniversary and your significant other will apologize after every fight.  And maybe, for some people, that is how the world works.  It’s not how it works for me.  But that’s okay, because I like my world.  I maybe joke about never getting flowers from H, but I would often rather get the things he does buy for me – things like bike shorts so we can bike together and wine after a long day.  Flowers die, but the practical things often last a lot longer (except for the wine, that never lasts long).

I guess what I’m trying to say is that, I love this song.  I love it because it was me two years ago.  Actually, exactly two years ago.  Timehop reminded me this morning that on this date, two years ago, H took me out on our second date, to Buffalo Wild Wings and a college hockey game.  If you know me, that’s a pretty fantastic date.  And, at the time, I was looking for someone who would love me for who I was.  I was so afraid that I’d never find it.  It was at that time in my life when I could have written saying that this song was exactly what I was looking for in a guy.  Because it was.

But now that I have the real thing, I can see the humor in a song like this.  Parts of it are true.  H does put up with me when I’m acting crazy, and he opens doors for me, and respects my career aspirations.  But I think there’s a part of him that wishes I would bake apple pies for him all day, just like there’s a part of me that would like some flowers once or twice.

Nobody’s perfect, right?

Dear future husband,

I don’t have enough words or patience to write a rhyming song for you, but I will say this.  As long as you love me, and care for me, and support me for the rest of our lives, I don’t care about the rest.  I’ll continue to kiss you even when you have terrible coffee breath as long as you let me eat the entire box of wheat thins without sharing.

That is all.

Love, A.


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