Hi, futurewife!
Here’s the thing.
The thing is…
I’m going to find you sexy.
Always. Forever.
Morning hair. Dirty hair. Body hair.
I’m going to find you sexy.
Baggy sweats. Messy ponytail. When you’re wearing the strapless bra for function, but I appreciate the form.
I’m going to find you sexy.
Dressed up. Dressed down. Hair up. Hair down. When you want me to. Sometimes when you don’t.
I’m going to find you sexy.
Morning. Evening. Coming back from a 3 am pee.
Breast-feeding. Breast-examining. Stretch pants. Stretch marks.
I’m going to find you sexy.
Bad mood. Bad day. Bad haircut.
Eating cherries. Eating a popsicle. Eating raw cookie dough out of the bowl with a spoon half the size of your head.
I’m going to find you sexy.
Yes, you.
When the midnight moonlight is sneaking in around the blinds, and the ceiling fan is trying to take credit for the goosebumps my tongue is causing. With our skin on skin. Mouth on mouth. Our hearts in a race both will win. Your nails tracing down my back. Yours against the wall. Words turning to sounds turning to echoes turning to whispers turning to yells.
I’m going to find you sexy.
A couple of times.
What I’m saying is that, my hands may wander, but they are never lost.
Or something.
Here’s the other thing, love, when you feel it the least, that’s when I’ll find you the most sexy.
Then I’ll cuddle you up right some nice.
Love,
Peter



Love.