Dear The Possibility of Every Other Woman,

I can see me with you.  Us together.  I can picture the life we would share; the wedding we would have; the house and the family…  I can imagine the way we would kiss, and the how we would tell jokes.  The way we would look at each other from across the dinner table.  I know the love you’d give me, and I to you.  I can see the beginning, middle, and end of us as one. 

I can picture all of this, and because of it, my heart is saying “don’t get any closer.” 

Because I don’t want the life I can already see.  I’m sorry.  As good as it may seem on paper, it’s not the life I want to wake up to in the morning.  It’s not the story I want to kiss goodnight.  I don’t want the good life; I want the fairytale.  I want better than good.  Something I don’t see coming, and can’t predict what’s about to happen—someone who isn’t afraid to say “No” to me.  In another world and in a different heart, maybe I could allow for this.  But embedded deep in my spirit is a voice who so surely innuendos, “Not yet.” 

I can’t look at you and say this is what my heart has dreamt.

With you, I would look at you and say, “This is about right.”  I want to wake up and say, “This woman is much too good for me.”  And “I can’t believe she said ‘yes.’”  A picture frame is where you store your best photographs, but the heart is where you store your best memories.  Not the other way around.  The moments I have of you are best found in photographs, but of a true love—timeless snapshots of memories that sit on the nightstand of my soul.  This is the woman I am to be with.  It’s better for both of us this way.  The idea that your perfection is still waiting on you should make you extremely happy, and hopeful that life is full of the same possibility I feel for the love of my life.  Sleep well.

With Love,

Jason

(Source: memoir.jasonotoole.com)