What I Want For You

Dear Numbers 1 through 7,

I hope if this letter makes it into your hands that by the time you read it, you already know what I am about to tell you.

But I want to be sure you understand how I feel.

I hope someday you have kids of your own, and not because I selfishly want grandchildren (although I do), and not because I want you to have some payback for the terrible twos, or the troublesome threes or, what no one ever warned me about, the fucking fours (although I want that too),

but because there is no feeling that even comes close to the one you will have when your children are happy.

I can’t explain it; I don’t know why it happens.

But think of the most fun time you have ever had.

And then multiply that by like a bazillion.

And that is what it feels like to witness your children being truly happy.

On the other hand, there is also no feeling as bad as the one you have when your children are not happy.

I have two old friends.

I became friends with one when I was in high school.

The other was a friend I made in college.

They are both men.

They are two of the funniest people I have ever known.

But they also might have been two of the unhappiest people I have ever known.

Maybe not. I don’t know that for a fact.

But what I know is that they didn’t feel like they could tell their friends and family from a very young age,

your ages now,

that instead of falling in love with a woman, like the majority of men do, they fell in love with men.

And so they felt like they had to keep that a secret.

And pretend like they were something that they weren’t.

I haven’t kept that secret before, but I have kept other secrets.

Keeping secrets because you think people won’t like you or love you anymore is not fun.

It made me really unhappy.

It made me tired.

And it made me sad.

And I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to keep any secrets from me.

Especially if it’s because of the gender of the person you fall in love with.

Because I don’t think you have any control over who you fall in love with, just like you don’t have any control over what color eyes you are born with.

So I don’t care if you fall in love with a man.

And I don’t care if you fall in love with a woman.

Now, if you fall in love with a total asshole, that I may have a problem with.

Because I want you to be happy.

You know those friends I told you about before?

The ones that kept a secret for many, many years?

The one from college got married last weekend.

To a man.

And I saw the pictures from his wedding and he looked so happy.

His husband looked so happy.

Like I’m-five-years-old-and-I-just-found-out-I’m-going-to-Disney-World happy.

And every single person at the wedding looked just as happy.

And that’s what I want for you.

I want you to be you, and I want you to be happy.

And whoever makes you feel that way is, as far as I’m concerned, the perfect person for you.