To My Future First Wife Part 5: Well, nothing lasts forever even... No, I can't do it. I can't make a November Rain reference, even if there Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone.

 And now resident romantic, Tigerman, addresses his bride-to-be, whoever she might be.

Dear woman whose heart I will inevitably break and/or will leave me a hollow husk of my former self,

I know that it has been a Tiger's age since I've written to you. I'm sorry that it took me so long to do so. My life has been, well, in a state of mass upheaval. First I had to abandon my home because my fellow band member, Brick, wrote a song called 99 that may have ticked off the Occupy protesters (they also hate our boss, G Mod, because he's an evil, rich bastard). Then I almost became a rug after I misplaced G Mod's sunglasses. I don't even remember doing so, but apparently I'm responsible, go figure.  Lastly, I've recently been hired to work for Tiger International, the number one feline owned cable channel in the world.

I've been so busy that I haven't been able to think my priorities through. You know that I love you with all my heart. I eat, sleep and breathe with the love I have for you, even though we haven't met yet, or at least haven't confirmed our love for one another. When my life recently flashed before my eyes, I had a chance to reevaluate my priorities. Also, I found out that legally I'm only allowed to write five of these entries to my future first wife. I'm not sure if Slate was correct about that but he said that writing five times to the same woman and not getting a response was "hilariously pathetic". Oh well.

I had time to think. Even though I've spent four entries talking about how much I love you, despite the fact that I really don't know anything about you, there has always been a big issue with this whole series of intimate, exquisitely written letters. You are my future FIRST wife. First. As in not the only one. As I'm not a polygamist, that means that, for one reason or another, our romance will end in ruin. This saddens me to no end. Can you imagine me investing all these emotions and hours writing letters only to find out that this is all fleeting. Was it worth anything? What could I have done differently to save our not-yet-announced marriage from sinking into the crimson sea of divorce? I don't think I could have loved your nondescript features and generic personality traits any more than I already do now. I just can't. Loving hurts so bad that I can't handle anymore.

This is all doomed, like a TV show named Cursed and then later renamed after the actor in the lead role but inevitably cancelled by the network anyway. You are, or at least will be, my first wife. There is no avoiding the upcoming failure. Of course, if we never got married, then we would never get divorced and I'd never end up with my second wife and not doing that would have enormous ramifications on the future...one would assume.

Ok, that puts things in a new perspective. So, what you are saying is that if we don't fall in love then we will subsequently create a time paradox where the lack of our doomed love will in fact doom the whole world. Well, that would be a catastrophe. (ha. cat-astrophe) Is it really better to have loved and lost then to never have loved at all? I guess it is if the fate of the world depends on us coming together only to fall apart? Oh, this all so confusing!

I, well, I love you, woman of unknown origin. It tears me up on the inside that we can't work out our personal differences in order to be a couple just a little while longer. Just think of all the love we will miss out on due to all the resentment, jealousy and nigh endless litigation. We really don't have a choice though. We could try prolonging the inevitable but it would be pointless. It couldn't last. The ice holding our love together has to melt and unleash the flood of animosity for the good of everyone else. Linger one more moment and we'll surely drown.

Hello and farewell, my future first wife. You will be too good for me and I will let you down when you need me most. And when you leave, there'll be no more sunshine anymore.

I miss you already.

What else could I be? All Apologies.

Sincerely,

Your future ex-husband

Tigerman

Tigerman is a self-taught bass player as well as a six foot tall anthropomorphic tiger creature. He spends all of the time he isn’t playing music talking about his future wives. With this entry, he has fulfilled his contractual obligation for the "To My future First Wife" series. We couldn't be more thrilled. You wouldn't believe how bad it was that he... What? He is now contractually obligated to do 5 "To My Future Second Wife" entries? **** me!