I know on paper I am your least favorable candidate to love your son, let alone marry him
Yet I can promise you, no one will ever love your son the way I did
I am white, with just a Bachelor’s degree working in the same medical practice as him
Yet I have studied every eyelash, laugh line, and beauty mark your son has
The way his energetic eyes are laser focused when he is listening to help heal someone else
The way his whole face brightens when he greets his patients
How his laugh fills up every room he is in and how it feels like a big hug to me
I know exactly where he is most ticklish and where to hold him when he needs support
I am not a part of your culture, I don’t speak your language and I am not religious
Yet, I worshiped and adored the ground your son walked on and not because an ancient holy text told me to but because I saw the way he worked miracles everyday
Even and especially on his worst days
How he cared for people so deeply and fully and taught me to do the same

I have so many unanswered questions for you
When was the first time he made you proud?
When was the first time he made you really angry?
Does his mischievous side, while driving you crazy, also help keep life exciting like it always did for me?
Who does he get his big, lively, beautiful, wondrous brown eyes from?
And does it warm your soul to see the way they widen when he speaks about something he’s passionate about?
And that he only ever gets angry on behalf of others and those less fortunate than him?
Did the first time you saw him cry make your whole body stiffen and realize just how much you really love him?
And that you would do anything to protect him from any kind of hurt? Even if it meant hurting yourself?
Did the first time you heard his laugh melt your heart like butter?
And make you wonder how you went your whole life and just now finding the most perfect sound?
Did it make you a lighter person because nothing feels as good as laughing with him?
Does it make you proud that he never lost that childish sense of humor?
How does it feel to know you created my favorite sound?
How does it feel to know you made my favorite everything in human form?

I don’t speak your language, celebrate the same religious holidays, or have the same lived experiences as you due the difference in our skin tones
Yet, I share so much of your son values that we swore we were soulmates

Our strong sense of family- how much we are both loved by family and how important it is to return that love
To remain idealistic and hopeful despite the difficulties of the world
Our ability to laugh nonstop at the same inside joke for 10 minutes that we cannot even look at each other without another bout of laughter powering through
Having felt the darkest depths of human emotion possible making us strive to be better humans everyday and to service others
To be a good person even and especially when no one is looking
That the person you think you have nothing to learn from, actually may have the most valuable wisdom
Being hopelessly indecisive yet still being sure we were in healthcare as a life calling for a reason- and we were meant to meet to each other
That nothing felt as good as when we first lay eyes on each other and saw the other person’s whole face light up
The naughty risk of eating chips and salsa in white bedding
Yearning for the simplest dream of having each other to come home to and take the day off with, to make a home within each other
How could such a simple dream be so forbidden?

We were both so fucking cruelly lucky and unlucky at the same time to have befriended each other and then fall deeply in love
At first a slow burn from colleague, to friendship, to companionship to falling deeply in love
Like a head on collision
We saw it coming but neither of us knew how to stop it or wanted to
I’ll never love someone as wholly and unconditionally as I love him- yes, in present tense

My world shattered when I laid in the same bed as him, the same bed we had just made love in and he said “you’re just not part of my world”

I instinctively grabbed his hand and we just laid there in silence
Looking at the same ceiling, laying in the same sheets
Hearing the same buzz of the city outside and feeling the same coolness from the window being propped open
We were both covered in goosebumps, our palm sweat was seeping into each other’s skin
My heart was pounding because I knew what he said was the truth
And he knew how painful it was for me to hear and he could never take it back
Because it was true
I was not a part of his world

It didn’t matter that every countertop, night stand, and mirror was littered with sticky notes of affectionate reminders of how much I adored him
Or that his fridge was full of healthy snacks and ice cream I had bought him
Or that he always had my favorite shirt of his, with all the beaches of Brazil, cleaned and the first shirt in his pajama drawer for me to run in and change into as soon as we were home for the night
Or that the steamer he uses everyday for his scrubs I got him
Or his favorite letter I ever wrote him which was one from Trader Joe’s and had the quote “You can’t stop the waves but you can learn to surf” lay in his nightstand underneath his “The Holy Geeta”
Or all the hopes and dreams and laughs and tears and more laughs and more hugging and embracing that we had
Nothing would change that I was not a part of his world

To you, I may have never been enough
Not educated enough
Not religious enough
Not cultured enough
Not well traveled enough
But I can promise you one thing, I loved your son with every fiber of my being
And I painstakingly always will
Even as he was telling me how it could never be me I was praying and illustrating the woman who it would be
Because as heart broken as I am the only thing more unimaginable is him never being fully happy and still being alone

He’s the cause of my biggest heartbreak, but he’s also one of the best things that ever happened to me
I am a fundamentally changed and better woman because I knew and loved him
I still pray for him everyday
I pray he finds his happiness and peace

More than anything else, I want to thank you
Thank you for choosing to bring him into this world, so if nothing else, even the chance of loving him was made possible because of you
I’ll never know you; but you made my favorite person
And that’s an even sadder love story
That despite this heartache I carry everyday, I’ll never be able to explain to you how grateful I am for him
How lucky I felt to know and love him

And even more than creating my favorite person
Being heartbroken by him has made me even more enamored with my own father
Who never told me who, what or why I had to pick a certain path
Who refused to see me cry, not because he felt I was too weak but because he refused to see his little hopeful, loving, unafraid girl be beaten down by this world
Who even as he saw me break apart to love your son, still had empathy for him because he, as a father, could not imagine telling his own children to walk away from someone who truly loved them just because they’re from a different culture
Thank you for reminding me how lucky I am to have a father who makes me feel exquisitely seen