As Long As It's With You...

I saw a reel (yes, it’s always a reel that sparks the forgotten thoughts in my head).

And it was about the things I always said. The things I always wanted. Though sometimes I questioned if it was practical. If it was even possible.

Would I truly stand by my word when there’s nowhere to run? Or would I cower in fear like a prey facing an unknown predator?

I didn’t know.

But when I saw it… I knew that I still want the things I said before. And yes, it may be hard… it may be the reason I end up crying all the time. But I would still do it… as long as it is with you.

When you grow up in a Desi culture; it isn’t uncommon for dinners to turn into business meetings, or for the times when you’re sitting with family to turn into a place where everyone is just… existing.

It’s normal.

Even though it shouldn’t be.

And I don’t blame them.

The irony woven into our culture is almost never-ending.

It’s comical, if you ask me.

But that’s how it’s always been, and that’s how everyone knows it to be…

I don’t want that.

I don’t want my husband to work so hard that all he thinks about is providing. So much so that his presence is slowly eradicated. Not physically, but emotionally. I don’t want him to only worry about what’s going on in the business all the time. And I mean it.

I may sound like this naive girl who has no idea how the world works, and maybe that’s true. But guess what? I don’t really care. Because I know what I truly want in this world.

Yes, I have been sheltered my whole life, and Alhamdulillah (all praise is due to Allah), it happened. Sure, I may not be up to date with the gossip of the world, but I do know things here and there. And I do admit, there are a lot of practical things I don’t know anything about. But I am willing to learn, and I don’t know about you, but that means something to me.

So I’ll end this with a letter…

A letter to my future husband…

Dear… whoever you may be;

I’ll cut the pleasantries for later and just say this…

I need you.

I need you with me, and no amount of money will ever replace that.

I understand… trust me, I do. Trust me to notice the tiredness hidden in your eyes and the quick stretches you’ll do thinking no one is watching. Trust me to know that shift in your voice, your tone, your look. Trust me to notice every single thing about you.

So my Love, trust me when I say this: it doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter if we don’t go to those lavish restaurants or those stores with the beautiful but horribly expensive bags. It doesn’t matter if I don’t walk around branded from head to toe. It doesn’t matter if our date nights consist of having chaat, or maybe even just a cup of ice cream. It doesn’t matter if we don’t have at least two dishes on the table every night.

It. Just. Doesn’t. Matter.

What matters is clutching our stomachs in pain at the dumb jokes we make. It matters when I feel safe and comfortable enough to pull those pranks I see, knowing you’ll laugh too. It matters when I make a messy bun, wear a loose shirt, and clean the room knowing you’re doing the dishes. It matters when I know that no matter how big of a fight, we’ll make sure to not go to sleep angry. Honey, it matters when you’re there. It matters if I get to cry in front of you knowing you won’t ask me to stop. It matters when I’d rather fall asleep, our hands grazing as we talk ourselves tired.

It matters.

Your presence matters.

You matter. Every part of you!

So here’s a request… a plea… a hope…

Don’t fall in tune with the crowd… let’s make our own way. It’s scary… it’s into the unknown… but as long as it is with you… I’ll be fine.

As long as we have each other… Love, we’ll be more than fine.

*clears throat* this was embarrassing.

Let’s pretend no one read that, okay?