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Dear Future Husband: I Can’t Love You Like This

 

Dear Future Husband,

If I am to love you, and give myself to you…if I am to trust you, and we are to have a future together, some things have to change. I can’t love you like this.

If every woman you meet is introduced to your false narrative and your soulless accosting of her gifts (both physical and emotional), how then will any relationship flourish?  If deliberate truth isn’t your M.O., how will we move forward as a unit or a culture? If you lack integrity, how can you be respected? If you don’t share your real feelings or intentions, how do we get beyond silly games?

And if one good woman is never enough for you, how will we ever get to “I do?”

Social media, the perceived(and real) male/female ratios, greed and overall nonchalance about commitment, have changed the dating game. Things seem out of control! The rotating bed partner effect, is real. They say, “why settle for one, when you have options galore at your fingertips?”-And that’s a literal statement. Literally, within minutes, and with little to no effort, a man can have a new body in front of him with just a swipe to the left or right or the right mix of words in a message said to a woman in need. Sheesh! How do we compete with the feeding frenzy and seemingly insatiable appetite of your world?

When and how can we ever heal from this relationship abyss of the 21st century, if nothing ever changes in you?

To the social media point-my Facebook (FB) “inbox” stays full. I could literally go on a date every other night, and take several trips a month, hell, I could even get married, if I acted on the messages, requests and offers presented to me weekly. So this isn’t speculation, it’s fact. I’ve been proposed to at least 4 times in 3 months. More proposals than any woman should have. But I am not naive, I don’t look at any of this as real(though my future husband may be in one of those offers). I look at it as a game for most. There are serial social media predators. No, not all. But many. They use the same lines, and offer the same prizes, they inform you of their cars and wealth, they send you the daily “hey beautiful” messages. No, I am not saying some aren’t genuine, I would imagine some of you are actually looking for me(a wife) just like I am looking for you(a husband). But most, aren’t. Most are looking to score some a** and a notch. Some of that “good, good” as the young hip folks call it.

I am a realist, my “inbox” isn’t the only one with options. Some of my female friends have told me that a few of the male folks from my page, have trickled on to theirs and that they also get some offers and these same men use similar catch phrases with them. Hell, a few of my friends send me the pictures of him and ask “what’s this guys story, he is getting at me hard”, it’s laughable and sad. And there’s no doubt men are getting their fair share of direct messages from the more aggressive women as well.

But back to the point. It’s like asking a shark, not to follow the bloody chum trail. It’s not possible! Once they smell blood, they must have it-they want the meat. So is that where you are? And if so, how much of it do you need, before you are full and ready?

The lies, the hustle, the games. Aren’t we all too grown for that? I am privy to too many broken dating and relationship stories. Single women dating men who send their representative to meet them, reps who sell women the “I am single, ready and I have it all together” dream, they get her to buy into it and sign the contract, only to find the product he was peddling was a lemon, it didn’t work as promised, the quality or size  of the parts were not up to par, or the entire product was broken inside and out and rendered unusable for the long haul. And no refunds are ever given.

Or they come in like a wolf in the “Little Red Riding Hood” story, covered in false clothing, with false story’s and bad intentions (sharp teeth and all), ready to shred the unsuspecting female soul and take everything they can take from her. It’s enough to drive single women into the monastery! Oh the stories!

And so future husband, I have some questions…

I want to know: When did you learn to lie? When did you become a predator of sorts? And when did taking advantage of those who love you, and hurting them without basic human regard, become your “standard operating procedure”? How is it that you became a taker and not a giver? What pushed you to that?

I want to know: And to those whom this applies, how do you look yourself in the mirror after each sexual conquest and each “come up”? Do you beam with pride, like a college student when they get an “A” on a Final exam? Do you feel relieved and excited, like a runner who trained for months and then took 1st place in a marathon?

How do you reward yourself as you add to the trail of cracked hearts and to the unhealthy experiences and bitterness of women?

Where exactly are you going with all of that jive?

And who taught you that was OK?

Did you witness abuse and disrespect in your home? Did you see men hitting women, calling them “b*tches and h*es, and taking money from them and their children? Did the men in your life operate in infidelity? Or worse…did someone take your virginity against your will like the Antwone Fisher story? I want to know when callousness set in?

What created the anger and disconnect in you? Are your walls built from eye-witness pain? Did your Mom abuse you? Was she on crack and abandon you? Did your father fail to show up to your basketball games, give you a hug or provide financial support? Were you raised by pimps, gang bangers and pushers who taught you disdain for women and that it’s best to “get them before they get you?”

I need to know: When you are home on quiet evenings, do you sit on your couch for hours with a note pad and pen writing out the stories, compliments and promises to say to the next woman you meet on Facebook or in the club, or are you a natural wordsmith, freelancing and spitting compelling words with ease, like Pac, or J.Cole?

Do you use the same set of phrases and words on everyone? You know like these for instance…”good morning beautiful”, “baby I can’t wait to see you”, “call me, I miss you”, or “let’s put some stamps in your passport”-I could go on, but you get the point.  If these are standard, then what words are “special” for the people who matter for real?

I need to know: When does it stop? When is enough new p*ssy enough? Is it really that hard to be committed and honest?

Are the fast paced offerings of the next “best thing” or “greener grass” (aka better ass) that tempting and so out of control that you don’t know how to stop the runaway train and just love someone?  Hasn’t enough damage already been done to us, to you and the culture?

My dearest future husband, we need you and we want you. But we can’t keep up with this perpetual game of nothingness. We don’t have time for it. It’s making us bitter and cold.

We can’t love you like this. Something has to change.

A strong, loving and committed man, makes a formidable marriage and home.

If not you, then who? If not now, then when?

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Dear Future Husband: A Grown Woman’s Thoughts on Dating

I don’t necessarily want to know what college you went to and what degree you obtained, I need to know if you can communicate in good and bad times in the wee hours of the morning and late at night, about things that matter.

I don’t care how many S550s, Bugatti’s, BMW M6 special edition cars you have, what your 401K balance is or where you go for vacation; I need to know if you will be there when I call, to make sure I’m OK. I need to know if your word is “bond”, if I can trust you to protect my heart and if you care enough to be fully present when we spend time.

I’m no longer impressed by titles and the extras after your name, (Dr. MA, Ph.d, VP, or President of so and so- I’ve dated them). I need to know if you are kind and affectionate, if you will care for me if I become sick and pray for me when I can’t pray for myself.

I need to know what makes you feel alive, your fears and your back story. I want to know the parts of you, you’ve never told anyone. I need to know how you treat your Mama, your kids, and those you say you love.

I don’t need to hear another promise, or necessarily be told how beautiful I am (though that is always nice ), I need to know that you see my inner being, my scars and stretch-marks and the beauty and grace of my soul and in my story.

I don’t need to spend weekend after weekend on another pointless date hanging out with you at the “spot” or making love without purpose or meaning (that’s something I don’t need to practice, I’m good at that); I need to know what you want to do and where you want to go…with us.

I don’t really care how much “swag” you have, how many Purple Label fine suits you can pull out of the closet, or how many Gucci driving loafers and silk ties you can rock on any given day. I need to know who you are when I am not looking and who you are when I am.

Your fine-ness, collegiate accomplishments, snazzy cars, credit score and dollars in your bank are icing on the cake-of-you. If the rest of the above is missing, we won’t make it.

Let me love you, laugh with you, be with you and move towards eternity with you. That’s where this grown woman is today.

 

by Rhonda E. Frost

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Dear Future Husband: We Almost Had Forever

by Rhonda E. Frost-12/15/16

You are this enigma. This amazing man who pours on the appeal and feeds a woman everything she needs to hear and feel, and then you disappear for inexplicable periods of time, leaving her “fiend-ing” for more, craving a hit, like a washed up heroin addict.

You communicate with precision, grace and fluidity when you feel like it and then you shut down on a whim, like a level IV prison after someone’s been stabbed. It’s the most complex thing I’ve seen.

I wish I understood this. I wish I understood why the Universe felt like I needed you to enter my life? What was the lesson or purpose? And why didn’t it let us get to the promised land?  Yeah that’s what I want to know.

I wanted to know you. What you felt about love, trust and relationships. I wanted to go to a park and run or walk with you, go to concerts and plays. Have get-together’s with friends and play dominoes and spades, while Kem, Tamia, J.Cole and Ne-Yo entertain us from the playlist.

I envisioned making love in the morning and then making you breakfast before you left for work.

I wanted us to cook dinner together and try new recipes, while sipping on Patron margaritas (with salt on the rim) and that tasty splash of Grand Marnier.

I wanted to work with you and learn from you. And build an empire.

I wanted to trust us.

I wish I had gotten past the surface to know your secrets, to learn your hustle, and see your real feelings.

Mostly I wanted us to fall in love and stay there. I guess the Universe had other plans.

Perhaps you were saved from me and I was saved from you. And perhaps instead of mourning the loss of us, I should stand in gratitude for having shared those beautiful, temporary moments in the first place.