Dear Future Husband... Nigga, Where The FUCK Are You?

nigga, come get me.

I wrote this January of this year! It was sitting in the tuck in my journal, I figured I’d share it. 🤎

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dear future husband,

nigga, where the fuck are you? like… i’m starting to take it personally but I get it… you’re probably a whore. I’ve always been drawn to those types, honestly. Man-whores turned lover boys. You just have to finish hoe’ing and then you’ll come to me. Hopefully? Maybe? Truth is, I’m so sick of these niggas, my nigga. I hate these niggas so much, I think a bitch is on the verge of asexuality. Nothing they say to me excites me, they don’t have any special interests or nerdy hyperfixations. Music taste is… blehhh. No thoughts on the world around them. Just… existing. And it’s like I refuse to believe that this is all that is out there. Like all I ever wanted was a nigga who could spell. That’s it. That’s all. Now, we never had an issue with Ebonics or AAVE or slang, but niggas are deadass illiterate. Can’t even spell ‘cat’. And don’t even have a desire to be better. At all. Niggas ‘won’t’ me. I can’t do it. It’s like dumb is the new sexy and it’s really bitches out here going for that shit! Husbandddd, hurry up and take me off the market! Come to BIG MAMAAAA.

NIGGA.

Come get me! I know I got issues or whatever. Possibly autistic. Diagnosed ADHD. PTSD. My brain ain’t exactly super pretty. I mean it’s pretty as far as the intellect, but like… I’m a little off. A little cuckoo in the head, ya know? But I promise you you’re gonna have a ball. It’ll be a comedy show every damn day. I will laugh you out your drawls. I serve Manic Pixie Dream Girl with a little bit of Ingenue. Like I’m a fearless bitch fr. A little insane. A little crazy. But grounded at the same fucking time, you know?

Like I am the type to curse you out for not texting me when you got to your destination. Or I’ll curse you out for not having a social life outside of me. I’m going to curse you out for not believing in yourself. I’m also going to curse you out for not keeping up with your self-care routines. But see how all my reasons for anger are for healthy reasons? See how I’m cursing you out because I care about you and I cherish your well-being and our bond? Like, that’s me. And I don’t know, nigga, I’ma try to work on it, but understand that’s gonna take me time. Oh yea, and I’m definitely avoidant but I don’t relate to those dismissive avoidant creatures at ALL. You see, I’m a different type of avoidant. Intense as fuck and emotional and dramatic and passionate, but it only shows up when I really like you, so you just gotta get through my multiple sabotaging attempts and intense love confessions before I believe you REALLY love and like me. I don’t do the shit on purpose though, it’s all subconscious. But I be trying, nigga. Just give me tons of space and we’ll be fineeee. I promise.

And hubby, please make sure you keep your word with me. If you can’t do something just say you unsure, because once you hit a bitch with a promise I’ma hold you to that and if you’re unable to fall through, I’m going to assume that you’re going to ultimately disappoint me for the rest of my life forcing me to immediately cut off all communication cold turkey. So just… don’t do that. If there is a change of plans you have to let me know at least 72 hours in advance, because to be honest I was already counting on you not keeping your word and anticipating the disappointment honestly so if you tell me you can’t do shit in advance it softens the blow. You know?

I’ll keep all your secrets, though. I’ll be your sounding board. I’ma always remind you that you’re THAT NIGGA, too. No matter the circumstance or the situation or the finances. Why? Because you’re a reflection of me, and quite frankly I think I’m THAT BITCH. So anyone I’m with is a reflection of the love I have for myself. You are reflection of MEEEEE, babe. So pick your head, baby.

And nigga… relax on the clingy shit. Like I definitely have my moments of clinginess when I actually see you in person, but everyday? That’s draining. I hate a needy nigga. So make sure you got a life outside of me. Please go hang out with your homeboys and leave me the fuck alone. Please respect my self care Sundays. Long distance would actually do, come to think of it. But still be romantic. Like still check on me and send me flowers and remind me how fine I am. I. Just. Need. Space. Because I’m an ambitious bitch. I’m getting my shit together. Probably always gonna be getting my shit together because I have this tendency to always look for ways to improve myself. Do you do the same? Or do you always think you’re right? Because if so, we won’t work. But yeah, definitely have plenty of ambition. Definitely have a set direction you want to go in. Gotta have similar values and beliefs. Gotta care about the culture as much as I do. Gotta care about legacy. Gotta care about humanity. Gotta care about art. I care about how you’re going to make my public image look, too. So get it together before you get here, nigga! I’m about to be a very regal, rich bitch. Get all the hoe’ing out your system before you step to me.

You should also know I don’t play about my fucking food. If I ask you if you want something to eat and you say no, don’t come tryna eat off my plate. If I ask if you want more wing dip and you say no, don’t try to use my dip, babe. I don’t care how selfish I look— I will not share my food with you because I already asked if you wanted some. I am a Taurus. I’m never beating the foodie allegations. However, I do expect you to share your food with me even if I told you I wasn’t hungry. And in my head, that makes sense honestly. You shouldn’t even be questioning my logic and thought process. And can’t forget, if the waiter gets your order wrong, you already know I got you, boo. If you call me up and say I need to beat a bitch ass because she talkin’ spicy, I’m there. Just hold my custom, gold bamboo earrings with your name in them. 🍒

Hmmm… what else?

If you like J Cole over Kendrick, we will simply never work. Like ever. I already know the kind of nigga you are. You probably are mad talented but a pseudo intellectual who believes that Dr. Sebi cured AIDS and Cancer (even though a simply Google search and a look at his court cases would tell you otherwise). I just can’t do it. You need to know every Kendrick album and we gotta be able to break K. Dot lyrics down together. A bitch can’t be listening to trap music 24/7 either. I loooove trap music. I actually love southern trap music. But nigga… can we throw on some Marvin Gaye? Some Teddy Pendergrass? Some Teena Marie? Do you know of any older music outside of 90s R&B? PLEASE!

You should also know I am dramatic as hell. Viola Davis ain’t got shit on me when it comes to these performances. One small inconvenience and I will fall to my knees, put the back of my hand to my forehead, cry and go into panic mode. Anything can offset this. Me dropping my keys on the ground as I’m trying to open the door. Me forgetting about an appointment. Me forgetting to grab something off my grocery list. The McDonalds worker forgetting my 4th Barbecue sauce that I asked for. You forgetting to tell me you loved me before you walked out the door. The small change in your voice. Everything with me gives THEATER. DRAMA. I can never act normal, bro. I am a brat. I deserve to be a brat, though. I didn’t have that opportunity in my childhood, so I’ma be one now and who tf gon say something about it? I’m a Black woman. I deserve to be dramatic like the white girls.

Also expect tons of love letters. Like tons. And poems. I will leave letters and cute little sticky notes in your wallet, in your pocket, in your car. With my lipstick traces all over them. Hints of my perfume sprayed on them, too. That’s just the kinda bitch I am. I’ll either write something super funny that’ll make you piss your pants, something super uplifting, or it may just be me talking shit. You’ll never know with me. I shapeshift everyday. I’m a different bitch every day. Can you handle that? Expect Gemini Venus energy throughout the entirety of our relationship! I love the bags and the shoes and clothes as much as the next bitch, but gift me the shit that actually reflects me— buy my entire Amazon book wishlist in… hardcover. Buy me a Lego set. Get me that $500 art piece I’ve been eyeing for a while? Or perhaps that vintage X-Men comic book I’ve been keeping my eyes on for months. Maybe even gift me art supplies and journals or some shit. I don’t like the typical gifts all the time! Show me you pay attention to me. Because I’ll be paying attention to you.

Are you a hustler? Because I only like those types. I don’t really care about you having a shit ton of money, but you gotta have a mission. Gotta have drive. Gotta have a purpose. Must care about leaving a legacy that will withstand the test of time. I’m a 10H Venus, baby. I’m not where I wanna be, but I work so hard, I know I’m about to be RIGHT THERE. Power couple shit is what I envision. Will you elevate my status and my image? Or will you destroy everything I’ve worked hard for? You gotta match my intellect. Gotta be self sufficient. Gotta have that battery in your back. Hungry. For more. And hungry for me too.

Will my confidence offend you? Will my charismatic personality intimidate you? Will you feel a way about the attention I receive? Can you handle what comes with me? Will you respect my art? My passions? Will you get upset if I prioritize a project over you every now and then? Do you understand that I’m an individual outside of you? Will you look at me with admiration and adoration? Do I inspire you? Do you inspire me? Are we each other’s biggest fans?

At our wedding, we gotta walk out to UGK’s Int’l Player’s Anthem. I know, I know… the song doesn’t fit the magical moment, but it’s my favorite hip-hop song of all time. And you must know all the words! I want to walk down the aisle to Hip-Hop Love songs. No traditional wedding songs. Ja Rule’s Always On Time and Thug Lovin’. Mary J and Method Man’s I’ll Be There For You. Lil Mo’s 4Ever. Meek and Ella’s 24/7. I’m not a traditional bitch, so it only makes sense for this to be our wedding playlist. Would you be down with that? You have to be.

Expect constant roast sessions too. Reminiscent of Michael and Jay Kyle. Like do you have an inappropriate sense of humor? Like is it raunchy? Because mine is. It might be offensive, but I’ll make it up to you and butter you up and you’ll eventually come around and laugh at my antics. Are you gonna cry if I throw shade at you every now and then? Because we won’t work. Like, we need to have little shady moments towards one another and be able to laugh. Dying of laughter. I mean yeah I might offend you, but that’s what comes with the territory. You know I still love you, nigga. .

And nigga, I’m willing to work with you, too. You know? We all got issues. I don’t aim for a perfect nigga, but a trying nigga who is aiming towards accountability and self-awareness. For me, love is about grace and compassion and growth and is void of ego. Love can be teachable, adaptable, transformative, and inspiring. It’s about curiosity and open-mindedness. So husbandddd, just appear and feel free to seek meeee. I will appear before youuuu, Royal Highness.

Love,

Your Future Wifeyyyyyyyyyyyyyy