Tuesday, 31 July 2012


Dear Jellybean,

I know your love is the kind of love that will be able to heal all of my painful wounds. Please, don’t stay in the future for too long, my body needs your soul.


Monday, 30 July 2012


Dear Jellybean,

Put your hand over your chest. Do you feel that? That thump, thump, thump? I know that you know it’s your heart, but do you know how much I’m going to cherish it? I’ll treat it as if it were my own.. With the utmost love and respect. I know words aren’t much without actions, but just read the rest of this for me.

       Perfection isn’t something I’m looking for. I expect you to have bumps and bruises from your past because I do too. If you have trust issues, I’ll be patient in the task of earning your trust. If you’ve gone through a period where depression has enveloped your entire being, I will kiss your scars and be thankful that you’re still here with me. I’m not going to judge you on your past. Whatever happened before me is only important to me for understanding how you’ve become YOU.

         I want to learn everything there is to know about you. From the inside out. Your fears, goals, desires, philosophical ideals.. Anything. I want to memorize the way you smile, the way your hair falls, the glint in your eye when something excites or intrigues you.

       You’ll surprise me everyday with something about yourself. Don’t be ashamed or embarrassed to hold my hand in public. I want people to know I’m so unbelievably proud that your mine. Somehow I must’ve gotten lucky and had you put into my life.

        But most of all I hope you don’t just want something short term. I don’t intend to grow fond of someone and have them rip the carpet out from underneath me again. It’s too painful for me to go through again. Cherish my heart.

       This letter isn’t perfect. It doesn’t sum every daydream and fantasy I have of you. It’s a jumbled mess of me. I hope it makes you smile. Just know, I cannot wait to wrap my arms around you for the first time. To slide my fingers in between yours. To make you feel beautiful every day of your life.

Until that time comes, I’ll be patiently waiting for you and silently searching.



Sunday, 29 July 2012


Dear Jellybean,

The old adage goes a picture is worth a thousand words, I wonder what they say about songs? Are they worth more than a thousand words or maybe a whole memory...

Did we have a first dance at our wedding? What was the song we chose? I hope it was one of these...

Our Possible Future Wedding Music

Listen to it and let me know what you think. Okay?

Until we waltz.


Saturday, 28 July 2012


Dear Jellybean,

Check out these pics -- the first one is actually somewhat of a dream of mine, albeit a bit cliched one. Who doesn't want to smooch someone like that in the pouring rain. Remember that AWESOME rain scene in The Notebook?

What? You never saw The Notebook? Don't worry. You will. How many times have I made you watch it yet?

"It's still not over"


Oh, and don't even get me started on Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice, especially that lake scene...

What? You've never read the books or seen the movies? How much of a sheltered life did you live before I waltzed (yes, waltzed) into your life?

Isn't that how everyone wants to feel? To feel like someone can't breathe, someone can't sleep without you lying next to them, someone can't live without YOU? Maybe it's just another crazy thought of mine, but isn't that what love should be? Passionate. Enrapturing. Enduring. Swallows your heart whole?

And will I ever find it? Have you?

And you know what? I'm tired of people attacking me for believing in that fairytale. I'm sorry if I choose to be optimistic - some may call me unrealistic - but I feel like I have to keep believing that you're out there somewhere. I'm not saying fairy-tales don't come with some flaws and the occasional nightmare; I'm not as naive as all that, contrary to what some people may say. But isn't there a place for us where both can exist? Does it have to be one or the other ALL THE TIME?

I don't expect you to sweep me off my feet all the time (It's not your fault that you're not Jake Gyllenhaal or Ryan Gosling or Ryan Reynolds, opps, sorry it's not yet man candy Monday...), but that's the whole point. What I'm so looking forward to is falling in love with the real you. That's incredibly sexy, isn't it? To love someone with all their eccentricities and flaws? And Lord knows, you'll discover over the years that I have plenty of those. But we'll still love each. Not in spite of them, but because of them. Because I want to fall in love with YOU, not some version of you. And I'm sure you want to fall in love with the real me, right? I'm not going to give you some watered-down, artificially flavored, preservative-filled, low-calorie, zero-fat version of myself when I can give you the real thing. Life is just too short for all the fakeness, isn't it?

So, get ready, because as the song goes: "Hold on. I'm coming."

Until we meet...


Friday, 27 July 2012


Dear Jellybean,

Since I am Indian I always wonder what kind of wedding we'll have.

Will we have a Big Fat Bollywood wedding or maybe an inter-faith garden wedding with our nearest and dearest or will we go down to the courthouse and just get hitched?

You probably know by now that I don't subscribe to any specific religion but that I do believe in a higher power (but it isn't a deity or anything). I also want you to know that no matter what you believe (or even if you don't) I am happy to incorporate traditions from your culture/religion. I would love an interfaith marriage.

Maybe you're Christian, I don't mind doing a unity candle and having a reading from I Corinthians 13:4-8.
Or perhaps you follow Eastern Orthodox traditions, I would love to incorporate the Crowning ceremony into our special day. Maybe your family has Jewish roots, I would love to have a Ketubah and dance the Horah.

I can't wait to mix and match.
Until then...



Thursday, 26 July 2012


Dear Jellybean,

It's come to my attention that, sometimes, I can be an intimidating force -- like a force field of wind or hurricane not to be reckoned with. I do have a soft, gooey center, I promise, but I do admit that my concrete-like exterior has served as a buffer - a protective shield, if you will.

Was I really reserved and shy when we met? Did you fall in love with me right away, and was I practically oblivious to it? I'm sorry if I was. For so long, I figured that it would protect me from getting hurt - if I couldn't let anyone in, I wouldn't get hurt, right? WRONG. I got hurt, but not from other people who stomped on my heart and pureed it in the blender. No, no. My wounds, it turned, ended up being self-inflicted. I had been hurting myself for far too long, probably longer than I'd ever have let any stupid guy hurt me. I think I'm going to be struggling in this department always.

So slowly, but surely, I suppose I'm (at least) trying - trying to be open, trying to reach out, trying to stomp the shell I've been in instead of continuing to stomp on my own heart, which is, as you know, a beautiful, precious heart.

In the spirit of that, I feel it only fair to give you the home-court advantage (and no, I don't mean it in a kinky way, either; do we need to go over my prude rules again?). Here are some ways to begin to work your way into my heart....Here's the 411on how to approach me. You just might discover I'm not that intimidating after all; heck, I don't even bite...usually.

Eye-Contact Communication
This is numbero uno for me. as I said yesterday, the eyes are the windows to a person's soul, and there's nothing I like more than "eyeing" a guy from across the room. It's that sense of innocent, yet seduction flirtation that I like. NOTE: Guys, if you look me directly in the eyes when you speak to me (which you should anyway) and my reply is a bunch of mumbling nonsensical words and awkward hand gestures, I'm probably in love with you...or at least pretty close to it.

I can be shy at first, so a strong and confident smile is the key to putting me swiftly at ease. If I smile at you, don't get scared and think it's some sort of twitch from my disability. It means I really, really like you.

Break The Ice With Laughter
They say laughter is the best medicine for a very good reason, and it's especially true in the love game, I've found. I love a guy who can make me laugh, one of those spontaneous, genuine laughs are the best. For example, Young Guns last week just made my day when he showed me how he'd learned to juggle with Play-Doh. It's simple, yes, but it left me smiling the whole day. He was a mighty fine juggler too, I might add.

Just Talk To Me
Did you see this one coming? It seems so easy, doesn't it? Just come up to me and say "Hi..." Then I'll say "Hi..." and before you know it, we're picking out names for our children. Oh, wait, maybe that topic will scare you off again.....


Wednesday, 25 July 2012


Dear Jellybean,

You were probably rather speechless when you met me, huh? It's Okay. I get it. I can be a bit overwhelming sometimes. So I think we've all established that pick-up lines are in desperate need of a makeover. Frankly, if a guy tried to use any on me, I'd probably burst out laughing, which would probably just crush the poor boy's self-esteem. We all know I'm not that heartless.

What I think I need are some custom-made pick-up lines, some that, when said by other men, will speak directly to me greatness.

1. You're one in a million; no wonder God made you so unique.
2. Has anyone ever told you that you have the most precious, delicate hands in the world? 
3. Tell me the story behind those eyes.

Hope to see you soon.


Tuesday, 24 July 2012


Dear Jellybean,

Wow. So is this really my 11th letter to you, someone I have yet to even meet? I'm speechless. OK, well, not really speechless (trust me, you'll learn to love my Chatty Cathy ways, among other things), but it is quite a feat, isn't it? It's odd, but in all these letters I've written, I've honestly never had a picture of you in my head. I have no idea where we'll meet, what you'll look like and the more-likely-awkward things I'll say to you within the first 10 minutes of our date (I figure if that doesn't scare you away, nothing will).

Over the course of these 11 letters, I've laughed, I've said the wrong thing (more than once) and of course I've been my adorably dorky self. But the majority of letters have been about you, you, you. Take a look at this quote:

You know what it means to me? I haven't given myself enough credit, not just in these letters, but in my entire life. I've harped and criticized myself to near-death, and where has it gotten me? Yup. Nowhere. Not anywhere close to where I want to be. So you know what? I'll just say it: I'm going to rock your world. Trust me. Your life won't be complete until you meet me. You have no idea now, but your life is nowhere near as grand as it will be when you catch your first glimpse of me. I'm going to change your world, how you look at the world, how you look at people and especially how you look at yourself. It's going to be awesome, to say the least. I'm going to open up your world and expand your mind drug-free! When you meet me, you're going to inevitably say to yourself, "Damn, how did a girl like this stay single for so long?" and I'll say, "Because you took your sweet damn time finding your way to me." And then you'll laugh and I'll laugh. And then we'll pour ourselves a tall glass of Ice Tea at sunset...and maybe do other things.

Until we meet...


Monday, 23 July 2012


Dear Jellybean,

"I revealed too much too soon. I was emotionally slutty."
--Carrie Bradshaw, Sex & The City

Have you ever come across a quote that just screamed your name? I honestly think this quote was written for me. Is it worse to be an emotional slut or, well, the other kind of slut, which I obviously am not. I have this horrible habit of revealing too much, too soon with the guys I've got my eye on. Call it overeagerness or overexcited if you want, but I HATE this trait in a guy.

I'm doomed. That's it. I'm destined to be an emotional slut for the rest of my life. And the worst part is that you don't even have to give me some alcohol to get me to spill. I spill my emotions all over the floor at free will; honestly, I'm surprised the guy doesn't slip on the mess I always seem to make.

So I suppose I should apologize ahead of time (or would it be after the fact for you? I can't wrap my head around this time-difference thing). I'm probably going to say things at the wrong time, say things out of nowhere and just generally say everything that's on my mind. Or have I already?

What are your thoughts on emotional sluts? Is it a bad habit or a curse I'm destined to have for the rest of my life?

Until we meet...


Sunday, 22 July 2012


Dear Jellybean,

Where am I living now? I know that sounds like a strange question, but it's 2012, remember, and who knows the year in which you're reading this? We could be in a tiny apartment. Or in a sprawling farm house (wouldn't that be quaint?). Or we could be living in a New York City penthouse, me working as a Broadway star, and you...well, you can do whatever you want. I signed a prenup, didn't I?

Anyway, I may be forward thinking about the whole prenup thing, but I've always fancied living in a classic 1950s-style house. The small kitchen with the colored tiles, the carpeted living room with those awesome vintage lamps and the little knickknacks laying about.

What do you think of this house? Isn't it beautiful. Can't you just see our children's art on the fridge, or us sipping lemonade on the porch on a warm summer's evening? Or, how about sipping a martini at our bar? I can.

One caveat, though: Don't expect me to be Betty Draper incarnate a la Mad Men. The house may be vintage, but this girl (read: me) is so modern, I'm almost into the next century by now. Think you can handle that?

Oh, and of course you'll be responsible for all the yard work on said house. Who says you can't at least a little something old-fashioned for yourself?

Until we meet....



Dear Jellybean,

It's September. It's everyone's favorite wedding season month (and my birth month too). A lot of friends and acquaintances, have gotten married in this hot, steamy month. And now that Wedding Season 2012 is approaching, my romantic mind (damn, you, romantic mind) can't help but linger over our wedding. I've probably told you this a billion times already (and you've probably just smiled and nodded, and maybe even unbuttoned your shirt collar a bit from feeling a tad bit suffocated), but I'm one of those cliched girls who's pictured her wedding day since she was 6.

So...what was it like? Did I make a lot of demands on you - I promise I'll really, really try to not to be a Bridezilla (Is that show even on anymore?). I do, however, have always had some ideas in mind, including:

The proposal:
You know those romantic proposals? Did we have one of those? Did you take me to a beautiful hillside in the fall or spring? Did you have my favorite root beer laid out on a blanket? Did you give a speech about how we are going to spend the rest of our lives together and you couldn't see yourself marrying anyone but me? Did you say that my disability is the last thing you care about and that you see the real me inside - and always will? Did you whip out a cute little ring for my cute little finger?

Or did I take the reins and propose to you? Because you know darn well that I'm not THAT old-fashioned. I'm not above asking you to marry me. And trust me, it'll be more romantic than you could ever dream of.

The Wedding
Here are some things I've always thought a wedding should have...did we have them?
--A simple ceremony, preferably outside in a garden
--Our own written vows (and don't worry...I can write yours for me if you need me to; I won't refuse to marry you if you're not a wordsmith)
--Pink flowers
--A limo for me, complete with a root beer and apple juice mini-bar. Oh, and some of those bags of Chex Mix, please.

Did I wear a dress like this from Style Me Pretty?

The Honeymoon
--Someplace quiet and exotic, where it's just the two of us. Istanbul? Rio De Jeniero?
--I can guarantee it's going to be the best honeymoon you'll ever have

Until we meet...


Saturday, 21 July 2012


Dear Jellybean,

My grandparents have been married for 53 years this week. So, naturally, I've got weddings on my mind more than usual lately. I know the horrific people that brides can turn into. I've watched Bridezillas, and let me just say, it's not a pretty sight. That's why I never want to be that person: the whiny, "it has to be my way," queen on our wedding day. And I sincerely apologize if I was; I hope you tried to at least slap (metaphorically, of course; if you really slapped me, I'm taking your signed pre-nup and running...well, more like rolling, but you get the general idea here). Anyway, the point is that I've always fancied a low-key wedding - original, full of pizzazz and to the point. Ironically - or maybe more like a coincidence - those are the exact same words people have used to describe me.

So when I came across these photos, I couldn't help but think: WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THIS FIRST?? How awesome would it be to have a circus/town fair wedding?

I say we go for it? Are you game? Until we meet...


Friday, 20 July 2012


Dear Jellybean,

You've been on my mind more than usual lately. I don't know why. Maybe it's the warmer weather, the approaching wedding season or any of a billion other reasons. After the letter I wrote you last week, one of my friends made a very good observation (I know it was an exceptional observation since even I didn't pick up on it until now). She wondered why the majority of my letters were about you: what I'm looking for in you, where I think we'll meet, who I think you'll be, what I think my life will be like with you. That's all well and good, naturally, but then she asked why I never touched on what I'd bring to our lifetime love affair.

What would I have to offer you?

I needed to hear that question. Maybe I've been trying to avoid it, trying to neatly tuck it away in my subconscious. Maybe, worse, it never even registered on my radar. As I've said before, I often wonder if my sometimes overzealous self-esteem is just a front for my deep insecurities; almost as if I'm trying to convince myself that that I have a right to have a least a shred of self-esteem and self-confidence.

Oh, shoot. Look at me now...I'm further trying to dodge the question. Okay. Okay. So what can I give you that you were desperately living without before you met me?

I'm a nice girl (damn, I sound like Marcia Brady).

I'm a bit quirky, a little awkward, a lot left-of-center.

I frankly don't give a damn what other people think - and, as I'm sure you'll find out, sometimes I won't even care what you think (get ready, honey!)

I'm incredibly funny and charming. I don't have that filter between brain and mouth, I say what I mean and I mean what I say. That would explain why you just couldn't resist my allure when we met. It's not my fault I'm so damn fetching.

But, really, though, I suppose at the heart of things I can promise that I'm going to love you more than anyone you could ever imagine. When I love someone, I LOVE them (and no, that is not meant in a stalker, you-are-mine-forever way). It just means I can promise you that I'll always love you for who you are - for your heart, your soul, for the person you are. That's probably why we fell in love in the first place - because you were the first guy ever to give me that in return. And that's the most special, most incredible gift you could ever give and receive, isn't it?

Just know that you're a very lucky man, sir.

Until we meet...


Wednesday, 18 July 2012


Dear Jellybean,

I broke down and watched The Curious Case of Benjamin Button over the weekend. I vowed I'd never see the movie, seeing as I just don't understand all the damn hype about Brad Pitt (he probably doesn't hold a candle to your cuteness), but, like all things pop culture, I just had to give in.

The movie was good, but the message underneath all the Brad Pitt "eye candy" really struck a nerve with me. At one point in the film, the love of his life (played by another one of my least faves, Cate Blanchett), questions how he could love her when she's so old and wrinkly.

His reply? "Not on the inside," meaning he saw beneath the layered surface, beyond those superficialities, beyond the physical body, beyond everything that, frankly, didn't matter in the end. Isn't that ultimately what everyone wants in the end? Not just to hear those words, but to know the person speaking them means every ounce of it?

I know you mean it; heck, you wouldn't be my husband if you didn't, that's for sure. But I just wonder - too often, probably - how long it's going to take me to find you. All I ever want is for someone to see me without seeing me. Does that make any sense? Yes, I want someone to look at me, but I don't want them to be repulsed, horrified or otherwise afraid of my inner package. I suppose I am somewhat vulnerable when it comes to showing people my scars, afraid of what they will think, afraid I'm some sort of reject. So why can't people see me for who I am beyond all that stuff? Maybe they do, and I just don't notice. Or maybe part of me simply doesn't want to notice because they would mean making myself vulnerable. I'm sure you learned early on just how much I thrive on being in control. Who knows, maybe it was one of the things that first attracted you into my web.

I guess at the end of the day, the question always is: If I want to truly love someone - and that involves seeing into their soul - why does it seem like that's such a hard thing for men to do for me? And, what made you any different from the rest of them?

I must admit, I'm getting more and more anxious to find out the answers.
Until we meet...


Tuesday, 17 July 2012


Dear Jellybean,

   I'm like one of those pretty, blue Tiffany boxes:
Good things come in small packages.

What young girl (and yes, I still do consider myself young) doesn't dream of a pretty, sparkly engagement ring? I've been dreaming of mine since, well, probably since I was in kindergarten. Check out some of the rings that made my list from BlueNile.com

And of course, some good-old classics from Tiffany & Co...

So if you ever have some extra cash stashed away, feel free to FedEx me some beautiful bling!

What are your favorite styles?