An Advanced Apology to My Fiancée

I’m trying to find a topic to write about for this blog because I’m in one of those moods where I need to do something creative if only for the sake of taking my mind off of food. I could easily get up and check my phone for the ideas I have written down yet the mid-February weather has me locked into bed while freezing my ass off wishing I had some hot tar to pour all over my body.

And this is what I want to apologize for in advance to my dear fiancée.

I’m sorry, Jenny. I’m sorry I live in such a cold place in the winter. I’m also sorry I live in a place that in the summer it is completely different. It gets hot here in the summers. The contrast is something you have never experienced in the Philippines because over there it’s always sticky armpit weather. Over here you need to prepare for each season. You can’t just have a t-shirt and umbrella then stay relatively safe. You need to actually check the weather to survive outside or ideally just stay inside.

If Jenny saw this she would probably think it was a Muslim person.
If Jenny saw this she would probably think it was a Muslim person.

Jenny has never experienced the misery of taking out winter clothes after six months then realizing you don’t fit into them anymore. Worse, she has never suffered the sadness of taking a t-shirt out from the closet from the summer collection only to realize you can hardly fit your neck into the bottom let alone the whole thing over your body. For her there are only two seasons: summer and rainy. Outside, she either dies of dehydration or puts herself at risk of drowning!

February tends to be one of the more brutal months in the Northeastern United States. It has snowed several times over the past two weeks to add to the fight from Mother Nature. When there’s no snow on the ground it’s just cold, dark, and not very pleasant to exist in. Unless Jenny and I end up living somewhere with a temperature more closely resembling the Philippines I’m pretty sure she’ll die as soon as the weather outside reaches what I consider room temperature.

I’m a terrible husband. Please forgive me for putting you through the painful, scaly-skinned winter sometime in the future. Even if you layer up enough, I’m pretty sure you’ll end up cutting your face on my dry skin then bleeding out.

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