An Open Letter To Mrs. Right (nee Wrong)

At the risk of scaring you off from the beginning, I think I should lay out all my flaws.
That makes it sound like I have a lot of flaws, I should omit “all”.

I think I should lay out my flaws.

Still not clicking. I should present my flaws. I should state my flaws. I should state my problems.

No. Problems sounds worse.

I have some things you may not know about me.

There. That seems more honest and forthcoming. Though “honest and forthcoming” seems repetitive. Reminder to self, delete these notes, leave only the parts which remain relevant to a reader that is not you. That is her. Relevant to a reader that is her.

She.

I have never seen The Red Balloon. I bring this up only because when my last girlfriend found that out, she accused me of being inhuman. This judgement was particularly harsh, not to mention undeserved. I mean, I think it’s undeserved. I still haven’t seen The Red Balloon, so I suppose I’m not in the position to judge. Which was my problem in the first place.

State my issues?

Other possible problems or issues may include:

I dislike ska. I know it’s popular with the kids, and the Christian movement, and if I disregard that, that’s almost a quarter of the world’s worth of women off the table (by which I mean Christians, not kids, though I guess all religions have kids, but I’m not into that). Not that you’re an object to be disregarded anyway, honey.

Is it okay if I call you honey? I appreciate nicknames in a relationship. It keeps me from saying someone else’s name when it would be inappropriate.

Inconvenient? Incontinent? Which one am I looking for?

Maybe I shouldn’t imply I’ve ever had sex with anyone else, ever, at all. But then you might want experience. Is it possible to imply experience without sounding cocky? Not as a man. And really, if you’d been there, you know, I can’t really be cocky. Is cocky even the word I want to be using here? I was a dick?

No, that seems worse.

Just delete that whole part, unless you can find a way to make me sound great in bed without sounding cocky. Like, a humble Lothario.

I’ll never finish that book you’ll loan me, but, after reading 100, 75, the first half-chapter’s worth of pages, I will feel confident enough to scan the Amazon user reviews and fake a discussion with you about it. I will probably also do this with movies I hear good things about, and that you like, but which I retain no interest in seeing. Most likely, this will be The Deer Hunter. Because you’re dating me. And Beaches, because you are a woman.

I will be an avid chef, and create things that are both appetizing and nutritious. You will want to try them, and will encourage me to take more risks, instead of only eating angel hair with parmesan and “Italian Seasonings” from the grocery store. And butter. A quarter stick of butter per bowl of pasta. Seriously, that can’t be healthy. Every day?

I will not object to you feeding the cat you see in the grocery store parking lot. I will draw several lines, however. First, at bringing it home, second, at letting it in the house, and the third line, which you will likely cross as soon as I fall asleep post-coitus (or promise of coitus, as you will likely not be often up for it) of allowing it to sleep in our bed.

That seems too specific. Maybe I should say dog or cat.

Sincerely,

Ryan K.

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