Example 1: To his fiancé, romantic, about one page
423 words
My dearest Rav,
There is no special reason for this letter. I just woke up thinking about how lucky I am, and I wanted to put it somewhere you can keep.
Five years ago you sat next to me in that choir in Philadelphia and told me baritones keep you honest. You sang every note slightly too loud. I remember thinking I would happily be your honesty for as long as you wanted. I did not know yet how much I meant it.
I knew for sure the night you walked me home in the rain. You stopped under every awning to finish a story about your grandmother in Pune. You did not care that we were getting wet. You just wanted me to hear the whole thing. I think I fell in love somewhere between the second awning and the third.
What I love most about you is how curious you are about everyone. You ask a cab driver about his kids, and a year later you still know their names. You are also completely unafraid to be joyful in public. I am still learning that from you, and I hope I never finish.
I love the small things too. The voice memos you send me while you are walking somewhere, with the city noise behind you. The cardamom in my coffee before I am even awake. The jars in our pantry, labeled in the worst handwriting I have ever seen. I would know it anywhere now. It looks like home.
I keep thinking about the night the power went out, when we ate cold dal by candlelight and sang every song from our first concert. I keep thinking about the morning you proposed in front of the departures board at 30th Street Station, where I used to wait for you every Friday. You turned my favorite waiting place into my favorite memory.
And I will never forget the little desk you set up for me when I lost my job. The plant. The sign that said "Theo HQ." You never once made me feel like a failure. You made me feel like someone worth believing in.
I am looking forward to our wedding in September. But I am looking forward even more to the ordinary years after it. A porch. A dog named Pickles, which was your idea, not mine. Thursday rehearsals for as long as our voices hold out.
Sing "Moon River" with me when we are old, Rav. Even if you are still too loud.
Always your baritone,
Theo
What the writer told Toastful to get this letter
- Writer
- Theo, to my fiancé or fiancée
- How Met
- We met five years ago in a community choir in Philadelphia. Ravi was a tenor who sang every note slightly too loud, and he sat next to me because he said baritones keep him honest. I knew the night he walked me home in the rain and stopped under every awning to finish a story about his grandmother in Pune.
- What You Love
- He's curious about everyone. He'll ask a cab driver about his kids and remember their names a year later. He's also completely unafraid to be joyful in public, and I'm still learning that from him.
- Little Things
- He leaves me voice memos instead of texts, usually while he's walking somewhere. He puts cardamom in my coffee before I'm awake. He labels every jar in our pantry in his terrible handwriting.
- Memories
- The night our power went out last winter and we ate cold leftover dal by candlelight and sang every song from our first choir concert. And the morning he proposed in front of the departures board at 30th Street Station, because that's where I waited for him every Friday the year he worked in DC.
- Support
- When I was laid off two years ago, he set up a little desk for me in the corner of our living room with a plant and a sign that said 'Theo HQ.' He never once made me feel like a failure.
- Looking ahead
- Our wedding next September, but mostly the ordinary years after it. I want a porch, a dog named Pickles (his choice, not mine) and Thursday choir rehearsals for as long as our voices hold out.
- Extras
- I call him Rav. Our song is 'Moon River,' the first duet we ever sang together. Sign off: 'Always your baritone, Theo.'